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|  | Текст (слова) песни: Napalm Death -  I`m Retching On The DirtI`m retching on the dirt,it`s earthiness coating my throat.
 
 I`m wincing on
 the bitterest pill.
 I refuse to swallow.
 
 I`m offered the warmth of a velvet glove,
 an iron fist to some.
 
 I`m treated like a scab.
 A traitor to my kind.
 
 I`m hounded by
 white-right
 might
 that wants the country pure.
 I`m incensed by those in awe
 of " living amongst their own ".
 
 Selective perfection
 will cut their own throats !
 
 I`m constantly
 forcing the point,
 but we`re all retching
 on dirt,
 and we`ll choke
 if we don`t spit it out !
 
 
     
Прямая ссылка на текст песни  I`m Retching On The Dirt:http://musworld.ru/music/eng/113/1/12706.html
 
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