No hope for the village, no hope for the village There's a merchant in our midst and with a barrel fist He's coloured every surface, he's slapped up a portrait And yes, it is his own! He's gonna take your home! Have you seen our visitor? Look! Over the treetops! Newly conjured erections are making him a killing And richmond st. Is illing, so the graduates are willing To buy in to the pillage, now there is no hope for the village
Prisoners, be silent, be silent and be sharp When he was a young man, he conjured up a firemare And burnt off both his eyebrows and half a head of hair And then as an apprentice, he took a drowish mistress Who bestowed upon his youthfulness a sense of champagne chic Oh seduction, his seduction to the world of construction Now his mind will start to wander when he's not at his computer Now his massive genitals refuse to co-operate And no amount of therapy can hope to save his marriage
Prisoners, be silent, be silent and be sharp Can you hear them talking? Listen through the wall Nothing to do, nothing to do Living rent-free is boring me Got no use for my pe degree Got no use for my pedigree
I feed you every morning and ask so little But you belittle all the work that I do When you take that walk without permission I'm not content I'm not defensive, I'm just Saying this cause I love you I'm not content
You know I hate it when your friends are in the pool Old money stinks, send those faggots back to forest hill Contentment? What contentment? I am bald and impotent I'm not content Is that what it's about? Oh honey, honey, shut your mouth I'm not content
Compositor: Michael Owen Pallett ECAD: Obra #20534883