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Red Flag The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last. I'm out of work and on the dole, You can stuff the red flag up your hole. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last. 'Twas on Gibraltors rocks so fair, I saw a maiden lying there, And as she lay in sweet repose, A puff of wind blew up her clothes. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last. A sailor who was passing by, Tipped his hat and winked his eye, And then he saw to his despair, She had the red flag flying there. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last.
The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last. I'm out of work and on the dole, You can stuff the red flag up your hole. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last.
'Twas on Gibraltors rocks so fair, I saw a maiden lying there, And as she lay in sweet repose, A puff of wind blew up her clothes. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last.
A sailor who was passing by, Tipped his hat and winked his eye, And then he saw to his despair, She had the red flag flying there. The working class can kiss my arse, I've got the foremans' job at last.
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