| Don’t be afraid, it’s only business
|
| The alien prophet sighed
|
| The vulture and the magpie took the cash box from its hook
|
| The monkey in the corner wrote the figures in his book
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| Crazed, the checkout lady’s fingers flash across the till
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| The captain posts
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| The menu of the day
|
| And in banks across the world
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| Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Jews
|
| And every other race, creed, colour, tint, or hue
|
| Get down on their knees and pray
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| The raccoon and the groundhog
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| Neatly make up bags of change
|
| But the monkey in the corner
|
| Well he’s slowly drifting out of range
|
| Christ it’s freezing inside
|
| The veteran cries
|
| The hyenas break cover
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| And stream through the meadow
|
| And the fog rolls in
|
| Though his bottle of gin
|
| So he picks up a stone
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| That looks like a bone
|
| And the bullets fly
|
| And the rivers run dry
|
| And the fat girls sigh
|
| And the network anchor persons lie
|
| And the soldier’s alone
|
| In the video zone
|
| But the monkey’s not watching
|
| He’s slipped out to the kitchen
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| To pile the dishes
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| And answer the phone |