Sing a song of two and a half new pee
As we mourn the decline of the bumble bee
And the sewage floating in the sea
Taints the daisy taste of your chamomile tea
Sergeant Pepper and Colonel Mustard
Are bearing arms; the world’s disgusted
Just blame it on the maladjusted
Not grand old dukes who can’t be trusted
Well I’ve been losing my mind, crying all night in bed
Whenever I dream it’s of banks and bloodshed
Those seventy-two virgins playing games in my head
Dear Agatha saw this; it’s murder she said
Stuffed shirts in a palace have the whole world controlled
Misshapen young bodies on the streets die of cold
I’m careering through time behind a silken blindfold
Why’s Jeanne Jugan condemned me to live to be old?
There was an old woman who lived in a boot
They wanted to move her; some awful dispute
A cantankerous obstacle to those who commute
Locked her up in the mental red brick institute
Possession, obsession with horseless carriage
The movie stars' sell us their fantasia marriage
A satanic globule; who can like Nigel Farridge?
In my masterclass you’ll learn to disparage
Parsley, sage, onion and Rosemary Squires
Filthy lucre laundered in gold tumble driers
Fomorians dance reels as humanity expires
Whilst fanning the flames of our funeral pyres
Like a circus going viral
Like a seal with sex appeal
Always twisting and contorting
Despite the weariness I feel
As the nightmares all rewind
Hallucinations that I find
In the treadmills of my mind