| The mind is a very precious flower
|
| That finds itself a strand amongst the weeds
|
| The cause and effect is what you might expect
|
| And going round the bend is where it leads
|
| The elephant provides the ivory tower
|
| It’s better left to wander to and fro
|
| Jumbo’s got no chance when the poacher doth advance
|
| With a ghastly poison arrow in his bow
|
| Sometimes it all falls into place
|
| Other times it sploshes in your face
|
| On occasion grafting wins the day
|
| Usually you wear yourself away
|
| Is this fair we ask ourselves as we get our headaches bad backs and complaints
|
| Is this fair my little ones? |
| Is this fair?
|
| Oh no it fucking ain’t
|
| It’s the way the cripple crumbles
|
| It’s the flaw of the jungle
|
| Be reliable and humble
|
| You’ll be beggared if you bumble
|
| A merry making catchall phrase
|
| Twentieth Century malaise
|
| It’s on everybody’s lips
|
| I’m afraid you’ve had your chips
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| It’s not a pleasant fucker, pheasant plucker
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| It’s a hole full of soap, soul full of hope
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| Life is all a bloody rush, a ruddy blush
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| Memories are shoot and hip, hoot and shit
|
| It’s the way the cripple crumbles
|
| It’s the flaw of the jungle
|
| Be reliable and humble
|
| You’ll be beggared if you bumble
|
| A merry making catchall phrase
|
| Twentieth Century malaise
|
| It’s on everybody’s lips
|
| I’m afraid you’ve had your chips
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| It’s not a pleasant fucker, pheasant plucker
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| Life’s a soul full of hope, hole full of soap
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| Life is all a bloody rush, a ruddy blush
|
| Manic depression, manic depression
|
| Memories are shoot and hip, hoot and shit |