| If we crawl at 2
|
| We could crawl at 22
|
| And grovel at
|
| The drop of a hat
|
| And once they’ve got you down there
|
| It’s so hard to re-straighten your back
|
| If we crawl at two
|
| We could crawl at 102
|
| And the target brainless don’t quite reach
|
| Covered so kindly in your opening speech
|
| Is a tiny crab of thought, crab of thought
|
| On a sideways beach
|
| Let lessons not the pupils teach
|
| Justice not the lessers breach
|
| And maggots not have fingers
|
| Wagged at by leech
|
| Well, I made sure
|
| I wrote this song in braille
|
| So you could touch the words
|
| The words that sail
|
| From my mouth back to the jail
|
| You could touch the words that sail
|
| From the mouth back to the jail
|
| That is posing as tongue
|
| Curtsies, bows, 'Thank you, sir’s
|
| And the wearing of a business suit
|
| Lead to complaints of backache
|
| And end with a Nazi salute
|
| And once they’ve got you down there
|
| It’s so hard to re-straighten your back
|
| If we crawl at 2
|
| We could crawl at 222
|
| And the target brainless don’t quite reach
|
| Covered so kindly in your opening speech
|
| Is a tiny crab of thought, crab of thought
|
| On a sideways beach
|
| Let lessons not the pupils teach
|
| Justice not the lessers breach
|
| And maggots not have fingers
|
| Wagged at by leech
|
| Well, I made sure
|
| I wrote this song in braille
|
| So you could touch the words
|
| The words that sail
|
| From my mouth back to the jail
|
| You could touch the words that sail
|
| From the mouth back to the jail
|
| That is posing as tongue
|
| If we crawl at 2
|
| We could crawl at 22
|
| If we crawl at 2
|
| We could crawl at 22 |