Am
To be strung up on a leafless tree,
Where everything dies and nothing grows.
C
Hanging like molding fruit,
One last dance whilst you decompose.
Am
On come the Paddington spectacles,
A black plague over all I admired.
(A vegetable breakfast) a hearty choke,
Seems like the whole world conspired.
G
But there stood a man,
He was cut up, distraught and cold.
But amongst the wreckage of his rib cage,
His heart still thudded as he said:
'I regard myself as a soldier,
Though a soldier of peace.
I know the value of discipline and truth.
I must ask you to believe me when I say…'
No matter if it all backfires, (backfires!)
No matter if it all goes wrong!
We just gotta get ourselves together,
We've sat still for far too long!
Now this ain't over yet.
As far as I can see:
We've only just begun
Ooh bleh!
