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 clear
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 beca