| Big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are.
|
| You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are.
|
| And when your hand is on your heart,
|
| You’re nearly a good laugh,
|
| Almost a joker,
|
| With your head down in the pig bin,
|
| Saying «keep on digging.»
|
| Pig stain on your fat chin.
|
| What do you hope to find.
|
| When you’re down in the pig mine.
|
| You’re nearly a laugh,
|
| You’re nearly a laugh
|
| But you’re really a cry.
|
| Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are.
|
| You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are.
|
| You radiate cold shafts of broken glass.
|
| You’re nearly a good laugh,
|
| Almost worth a quick grin.
|
| You like the feel of steel,
|
| You’re hot stuff with a hatpin,
|
| And good fun with a hand gun.
|
| You’re nearly a laugh,
|
| You’re nearly a laugh
|
| But you’re really a cry.
|
| Hey you, whitehouse,
|
| Ha ha charade you are.
|
| You house proud town mouse,
|
| Ha ha charade you are
|
| You’re trying to keep our feelings off the street.
|
| You’re nearly a real treat,
|
| All tight lips and cold feet
|
| And do you feel abused?
|
| You gotta stem the evil tide,
|
| And keep it all on the inside.
|
| Mary you’re nearly a treat,
|
| Mary you’re nearly a treat
|
| But you’re really a cry. |