Pass me that lovely little gun
My dear, my darting one
The cleaners are coming, one by one
You don’t even want to let them start
They are knocking now upon your door
They measure the room, they know the score
They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor
Of your broken little hearts
O children
Forgive us now for what we’ve done
It started out as a bit of fun
Here, take these before we run away
The keys to the gulag
O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice
Here comes Frank and poor old Jim
They’re gathering round with all my friends
We’re older now, the light is dim
And you are only just beginning
O children
We have the answer to all your fears
It’s short, it’s simple, it’s crystal dear
It’s round about, it’s somewhere here
Lost amongst our winnings
O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice
The cleaners have done their job on you
They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove
They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new
They’re lining up to inspect you
O children
Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost
He’s found the answer that was lost
We’re all weeping now, weeping because
There ain’t nothing we can do to protect you
O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice
