Are you all frills, Albanese? Are you all gills, Albanese?
Do you think how easy it is for you to get conniving busy?
Do you love your Pennies and Rich orChards, so canny?
Does Jim Chalm bring you calm? Are 58 merrier the many?
Does your Butler get the wages of a petty labourer?
Is your stomach, than your chest, a lot more scalier?
Does your clock strike twelve? Or is it always fifteen?
Did you have a better time than this?; such that never has been
I can tell you that my sacrifice has been my only vice
But that you reaped from it, what you didn’t deserve, is not so very nice
Do you know that out there is a world of frigid ice?
The deep sea is a morgue where fishy fish like you flies
Do you think a promised land can be parted like the Red Sea?
That all the labourers of the world started; they are not for me
Do you think the sheep and pig can wear a lion’s wig?
Let me tell you for all that you rig, I care a bloody fig!
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