Poor old lu

Wherefore

Poor old lu
Four-leaf clover at your hip
From a factory of candlesticks
Luck-o'-the Irish upon you
Take the common horseshoe

A sermon from the blue light
As if they know wrong and right
Sync-sync-o-pa-la
Sing along

They persuade with their tears
They're all my worst fears
And another foot's gone away
Buy one more that same day

And all those stars above
Tell you who to and not to love
And revere to the astronomers
Plus their followers

All your riches
Have gone to your head
You should know you've been misled
The rules of your game stay the same
And morale is just fame

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