| Here’s to the state of Richard Nixon
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| Where underneath his borders
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| The Devil draws no lines
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| If you drag his muddy rivers
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| Nameless bodies you will find
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| And the fat trees of the forest
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| Have hid a thousand crimes
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| And the calendar is lying
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| When it reads the present time
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| Oh here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
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| Richard Nixon: find yourself another country to be part of
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| And here’s to the schools of Richard Nixon
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| Where they’re teaching all the children
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| That they don’t have to care
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| All the rudiments of hatred
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| Are present everywhere
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| And every single classroom
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| Is a factory of despair
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| There’s nobody learning
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| Such a foreign word as «fair.»
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| And here’s to the laws of Richard Nixon
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| Where the wars are fought in secret
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| Pearl Harbor every day
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| He punishes with income tax
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| That he don’t have to pay
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| And he’s tapping his own brother
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| Just to hear what he would say
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| But corruption can be classic
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| In the Richard Nixon way
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| And here’s to the churches of Richard Nixon (and Billy Graham)
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| Where the cross once made of silver
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| Now is caked with rust
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| And the Sunday morning sermons
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| Pander to their lust
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| And the fallen face of Jesus
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| Is choking in the dust
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| And Heaven only knows
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| In which God they can trust
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| And here’s to the government of Richard Nixon
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| In the swamp of their bureaucracy
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| They’re always bogging down
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| And criminals are posing
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| As advisors to the crown
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| And they hope that no one sees the sights
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| And no one hears the sounds
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| And the speeches of the president
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| Are the ravings of a clown |