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Standing on the beach near the point;
Feeling how to think with a joint,
And with a bottle of booze,
I wondered how can I lose,
But they tell me thatís a sure way to die.
But then Iím no believer,
And you can see that itís true
That if you donít come to join me,
Theyíre going to sacrifice you.
Cuz Uncle Sam may need you someday;
Pay you what he thinks is good pay.
But you donít want to die;
I think you see the sky
Better from where youíre standing now.
So donít be a believer,
Just take a look at whatís true.
Those little boys in that White House
Are going to sacrifice you.