Have tears fallen from your ears like water bombs lately?
I’ll bet you anything you like they haven’t mate
And unless your dinner plate is graced with donkey breast and thistles
I’m afraid your insanity’s second rate

Loonies take their madness mildly and their fate surely
Dancing downhill dressed in pigswill with a heart pure
Shooting off a diatribe and firing shedloads of old missiles
Clearly hoping that they’ll never find a cure

Who let the nutters and their mutters throw a wobbly?
Rule the world with wild abandon and a hand job
The asylum’s out for summer and the inmates stroke their bristles
While the rest of us get smacked right in the gob