Long ago in london town A man called ant sat deeply sighing He was wondering Which side of the fence he was on Prick up your ears...
Time went by and soon The one was five young hombres Burning fire They were in no doubt Which side of the fence they were on Prick up your ears (mag-nificent five)...
He who writes in blood Doesn't want to be read He must be learned by heart He's got to be learned by heart
They believed in sex and looking good With their own brand of music They weren't pandering So which side of the fence Are you on?
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