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    I heard a terrible thing about you
    A secret handed down
    From one loose grip to another
    Your fate was passed around and around

    Give me a Chinese whisper, give me a rumour
    Let me mould it, shape it, change it
    And pass it on, pass on the baton
    Till everyone's holding court

    She's got an ugly reputation
    Of a common prostitute
    The consequence of childish serenades
    That mark and distort as a surgeon's blade
    But cut from cloth entirely manmade

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    Give me a Chinese whisper, give me a rumour
    Let me mould it, shape it, change it
    And pass it on, pass on the baton
    Till everyone's holding court

    He's happy at the bar with his pint and quips
    They listen with piggy ears
    He's telling them how to identify
    The silent, the guilty, the ones to stone
    With rocks pulled out from flesh and bone

    Give me a Chinese whisper, give me a rumour
    Let me mould it, shape it, change it
    And pass it on, pass on the baton
    Till everyone's holding court

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