Profiteers


Look up on the ledge, there's a bomber diving on the golden street
down below the crowd is falling, bullets under feet
Don't tell me, don't tell me, hey don't tell me
we're under the beat of a brand-new marching order
ears to be ground there's a party planned for the new recruits
hurricane lamps are burning, teargas fills the route, yeah
(hirst/moginie/rotsey)

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