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I can keep pace with you, give you something wild
I can change the place with you, turn you into something
Action comes to him who waits, if it's not gone cold
I can turn you into lead, I can turn you into gold
Read the small print
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
In the coffin of guitars, there her music lies
Foliage and solos crawling from her eyes
This is England
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
Nazi in a wheelchair and a cardigan
And a V-neck sweater, he's a sad old Nazi man
He's so friendly
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
Bury me in cellophane underneath a vault
I can climb back out again, but it's not my fault
I can climb back out again, what can you do?
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
The philosopher's stone, but ungrateful
The philosopher's stone
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