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Does anyone know if this is the FULL text of Tom Paulin's poem? The Observer (18.02.01) "Killed in the Crossfire" We are fed this inert This lying phrase Like comfort food As another little Palestinian boy In trainers jeans and a white teeshirt Is gunned down by the Zionist SS Whose initials we should - but we don't - dumb goys Clock in that weasel word Crossfire Oddly enough, it doesn't seem to exist in The Observer archive. Robin