The Fletcher Memorial Home

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home a little place of their own
The fletcher memorial
Home for incurable tyrants and kings

And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit T.V.
To make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome
Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friend
Mrs. Thatcher and paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and party
The ghost of Mccarthy
The memories of Nixon
And now adding colour a group of anonymous
Latin-american meat packing glitterati"

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect
They can polish their medals and sharpen their smiles
And amuse themselves playing games for a while
Boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye