Lyrics Wilson - Phish

Wilson

Oh out near Stonehenge, I lived alone
Oh out near Gamehendge, I chafed a bone
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards
I beg it all trune for you
Talk my duke a mountain, Helping Friendly Book
Inasfar as fiefdom, I think you bad crook
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards
I beg it all trune for you
I talked to my son Roger, Rutherford the same
When we had that meeting, over down near Game (henge)
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards
I beg it all trune for you
You got me back thinkin' that you’re the worst one
I must inquire, Wilson
Can you still have fun?
Wilson
Can you still have fun?
Wilson
Can you still have fun?
Wilson
Meanwhile, in the main square in Prussia, the state of the revolution was
taking another turn for the worst. A crowd of townspeople had gathered to
witness the hanging of Wilson’s accountant, Mr. Palmer. It seemed that Palmer
had been a revolutionary himself and had been extorting Wilson’s money to fund
the revolution. Palmer stood on the scaffold with Wilson and the AC/DC Bag,
an electrified robot-hangman with a black bag over his head. Wilson seemed
pleased as he began to speak.