I can barely keep the pace
As I bolt out the door
The watershed dissolves
Into families at war

The crude tube bogs me out
With a cucumber sandwich
Between the cause
And the emotional damage

What on earth is it you take me for
Is your ego doing battle with the ratings
Mocking the afflicted to the very core
Take responsibility for your failings
Matron!

Take the money
Open the box

The problem as I see it
And I’m not one to judge
But your void of compassion
Takes a dive in the sludge

What on earth is it you take me for
Do you judge me purely on the ratings
You bend me like a pretzel, now I’m down on all fours
The money box is open for the takings
Matron!
Abigail and Brittney perform the truffle shuffle
They are having a go in all the kerfuffle
Now don’t squirm in your chair
You are the sole director
So just pull the fucking plug out from its connector

Gawping at the dot
Disappear into the screen
Stand up to attention for your country and queen
Fellow brothers and sisters
Follow your instinct
Avoid being sucked into the prosperous jive

Take the money
Open the box

I can barely keep the pace
As I bolt out the door
The ninth bell tolls and its
Pussy Galore

What on earth is it you take me for
Do you judge me purely on the ratings
You bend me like a pretzel, now I’m down on all fours
The money box is open for the takings
What on earth is it you take me for
Do you judge me purely on the ratings
If I bend just a little further more
I’m likely to chuck up upon your failings’ railings

What on earth is it you take me for
Do you judge me purely on the ratings
You bend me like a pretzel, now I’m down on all fours
The money box is open for the takings
Matron!