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When you go.

Don`t get buried at sea Thatcher,
don`t rest under the waves.
It`ll make it hard to light spliff`s up,
as we dance upon your grave.
Don`t burn to dust on a pyre,Maggie,
go underground like you ought.
Don`t deny me the pleasure to moonstomp,
on your black hearted,dead,rotting corpse.
Written by DaveBarlow
Published
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