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He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
He swears on his mother's life he wasn't there.
And if he was there
he swears on his mother's life it wasn't him.
And if it was him
I’ve got the Teach-them-in-the-morning-Playground-duty-Teach-them-in-the-afternoon blues.My head’s like a drum;My feet, cold and sore.