The crocodiles
They can't think straight
In their minds for themselves
A single race no sharing with others
Living in the swampy land
They are at it all their lives
Now they walk on power
They think it is theirs
The land of many colours
The crocodiles don't blend in
They think they are the special breed
Living in the swampy land
The men in blue will not hunt them
They are in the back door they feel the immunity
Because the wolves need their support to stay
So the men in blue will back off quietly
Even a Sultan's decree
The crocodiles behave indifference
They are in the back door
They feel the immunity
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