WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

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The way you go around

With your nose in the air!

I hope you trip on a stair

And get back on the hard ground.

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You worship the sound

Of praise and you dare

To sit in the king's chair

To make others grovel on the ground.

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You'll lose what you found

And your haughty stare,

As you ride on your mare,

Will be stamped into the ground.

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