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Duty Free

No chocolate in the duty free shop

Two drops of scotch gonna end up on his crotch, tonight

All alone, sitting on the throne

Some native tongue on the TV blaring like an old peaveyHe don't aim to be rude

He's fighting with his inner prude

Some pommes frites and you know it's gonna drip

On to his lap, yes see the man slapping it offTravellin' will do him in

Trudging through the waves of people

Till his heart is cluttered and feeble

If you take him out of this loop

He may be very easily duped

Still he beats the stampede for the duty freeHe's using up all that old currency

He's using up all that old currency

Using up all that old currency

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