Johnny's playroom is a bunker filled with sand. He's become a third world man.
Smoky Sunday...he's been mobilized since dawn, now he's crouching on the lawn...he's a third world man.
Soon you'll throw down your disguise, we'll see behind those bright eyes...by and by, when the sidewalks are safe for the little guys.
I saw the fireworks, I believed that I was dreaming till the neighbors came out screaming, "He's a third world man."
Soon you'll throw down your disguise, we'll see behind those bright eyes...by and by, when the sidewalks are safe for the little guys.
When he's crying out I just sing that Ghana Rondo: "E l'era del terzo mondo"...he's a third world man.
1 comment:
I'd be interested to try your cassia bark coffee. I'm also thinking of buying some French Chicory for New Orleans coffee. Apparently this makes a brew with "enough body to stand a fork up in the cup."
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