| Hurling ourselves down to the depths
|
| Back since the day lest we forget
|
| Cause time it is set, our memories crept
|
| So now let’s political get
|
| There is no left wing
|
| To fight the right wing
|
| We’re like turkeys in a box
|
| Our feathers all plucked off
|
| And we’re all ready for Christmas Day
|
| Here’s the paradox:
|
| We’re like presents all wrapped up
|
| And we can’t wait for you to give us away
|
| Acceptable face, all over the place
|
| The lower you stoop, the less the disgrace
|
| You use all your charms to sound the alarm
|
| Have you got the legs to call us to arms
|
| Like lambs to the slaughter
|
| We paid for your daughters
|
| We’re like turkeys in a box
|
| Our feathers all plucked off
|
| And we’re all ready for Christmas Day
|
| Here’s the paradox:
|
| We’re like presents all wrapped up
|
| And we can’t wait for you to give us away
|
| Like the cut of your love
|
| Like the cut that won’t heal up enough
|
| We’re like turkeys in a box
|
| Our feathers all plucked off
|
| And we’re all ready for Christmas Day
|
| Here’s the paradox:
|
| We’re like presents all wrapped up
|
| And we can’t wait for you to give us away
|
| We’re like turkeys in a box
|
| Our feathers all plucked off
|
| And we’re all ready for Christmas Day
|
| Here’s the paradox:
|
| We’re like presents all wrapped up
|
| And we can’t wait for you to give us away |