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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