There's a spectre at the lecturn giving a lecture
On clean living in an age of dissent
But the menu's so empty
And there's nothing less tempting
As the same meal again and again
Cold potato salad, supposed to cure your malady
It's thirteen thirty-three - time for some tea
A sit down and a slice of toast
It's seventeen forty-four
Time to eat some more
Or vomit and give up the ghost
Cold potato salad, supposed to cure your malady
Six weeks maximum
Five years maxi-fun
41 months in the dock