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anthony phillips - we're all as we lie lyrics

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august saw a contest fit for kings
from far and wide they came to trade their swings
little grubs with stone-age clubs
and tanners’ sons with foxes gloves
they came to face the stiffest course since tring

harold took an eight-iron at the first
hoped the hedge whilst tostig chipped and cursed
sliced into a sticky patch and, playing out,
he’d met his match
when lettuce leaves had made the crowd disperse.

so, we’re all as we lie
we’re all as we’re lying.
no, don’t tell me it’s time,
it’s all in the timing.

getting wiser, so much wiser, introspected ostraciser,
drinking up with no holes barred to play.

daphne lay beside the silent pool,
when suddenly the air began to cool
otto heard it, running back,
and tried to stop the thudding crack
as luther strode up, crying “winter rules”.

“holy mackerel”, cried the papal prince,
“you’re out of bounds i’m really quite convinced”.
luther drew his driver but the pope pulled out a fiver
and they halved the hole on points of sacraments

so, we’re all as we lie
we’re all as we’re lying.
no, don’t tell me it’s time,
it’s all in the timing.

getting wiser, so much wiser, seven sisters sympathiser
drinking up with no holes left to play.

the hour of confrontation now was nigh
as plato and justinian were tied,
locked in mortal combat firing vulture after wombat
their supremacy now could not be denied.

the seventeenth lay waiting for the pair
as both advanced with silent, ashen stares
but there they stood, incredulous,
the distance reading “nebulous”
and “best of luck, buzz aldrin beat you there”.

so, we’re all as we lie
we’re all as we’re lying.
no, don’t tell me it’s time,
it’s all in the timing.

so, we’re all as we lie
we’re all as we’re lying.
no, don’t tell me it’s time,
or else i’ll be crying.



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