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Make way for the pigeon kicker Splattering the city wall Nothing ever seemed so pretty Nothing ever seemed so dull Past the line of cigarette trees Crooked cons and seminal thieves Fools and traitors and misfit saviors In full stride to rot away Sick with style and doused in bitters We'll be waiting drunk at noon We could never leave this city We can't even leave our rooms The drunken waste of rowdy wankers Slit your throat then spit your face Our fortune teller has gone insane In full stride to rot away From Letras Mania