Lyrics

This is it folks, over the top He was selling postcards from a paper stand A whisky bottle in his withered hand Put his finger on a photo from an old magazine Saw himself in the shadow of his dream They found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown Told him his feet stank and took him downtown Called him agitator, spy and thief Shut him up in solitary third degree Take a long line Take a long line Take a long line Reel him in He tried to appeal to the king of might Said, "I'm just exercising my sacred right" The king he said, "You ain't got no rights You're a madman, a traitor, get outta my sight" Take a long line Take a long line Take a long line Reel him in They found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown Told him his feet stank and took him downtown Called him agitator, spy and thief Shut him up in solitary third degree Then they put him aboard a well wound whirlwind Pulled out his teeth and they told him to grin He gave them a smile, pulled out a bottle of wine And said, "I never existed, you've been wasting your time" Take a long line Take a long line Take a long line Reel him in Take a long line Take a long line Take a long line Reel him in Take a long line Take a long line Take a long, long, long, long line Reel him in
Writer(s): Bernard Patrick Neeson, Richard Brewster-jones, John Brewster Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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