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You pick your stove-pipe up
You’re Abie Lincoln now
And I know you’re headed for the northern side of this divided town
You want to move right out to Gettysburg
That’s such a good address
And you are sure to find the friends you need to help you drive old dixie down We’ve reviewed your case
Memorised your face, and
The way you see your place
You want to leave more than a trace
You want to leave more than a trace
Of you behind…
You’ve got your skinny pride
Your under-fed ideas
But you say you’re set to sweat to build your pale democracy
What you earn you burn, the sacrificial
Notes go up in smoke
Ah, but when it clears, with bread to spare and roses too and we’ll be free
More than a trace
You want to make a mark
However small and shallow
In the shadow and the dark
More than a trace
More than a…
You keep your ticket stub
You check your hat and cloak
Beyond the balcony there’s sure be another John Wilkes Booth
He’s got a forty-five, its hidden deep
Inside a riding coat
Either blue or grey, how d’you like the play the victim?
The victim’s always truth
In a world that’s defined by the struggle to survive, every single person is striving to leave behind a permanent impression, good or bad.