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Текст (слова) песни: Magazine - Feed The Enemy
Its always raining over the border
Theres been a plane crash out there
In the wheatfields
Theyre picking up the pieces
We could go and look
And stare
How many friends have we over there ?
The border guards fight unconvincingly
Whatever we do
It seems things are arranged
We always have to feed the enemy
You could dance for me
And punch me through
Dance for me
We watched them trash thee last camera
Glued to all our tvs
The actors on the replay
Trying again to touch you and me
But they always seem to know
Exactly what theyre talking about
Now theyve got you in a corner
Youve got no room to move
Youve got no room for doubt
Thats exactly what theyre talking about
Now theyre got you in a corner
No room to move
No room for doubt
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