Lyrics:

A serious man in need of a definitive job
He had drunk too much mandrake anthrax
Pro-rae, pro-rae, oloron
Tormented tots with Burton weeping
His idiot contacts
Pro-rae, pro-rae
Put your claim into Tempo House
Go round there and have a grouse
Go round, have a grouse
Put your claim into Tempo House
Roll the chubby round jowls
Roll the chubby round jowls
And Burton's weeping
His chairs are weeping
God damn the pedantic Welsh
Pro-rae, pro-rae
Oloron, oloron
Put your claim into Tempo House
Go round there and have a grouse
Go round, have a grouse
Put your claim into Tempo House

I'd sing 'Solitaire' for the B.E.F
But who wants to be with them, anyway?
Snow on Easter Sunday
Jesus Christ in reverse
I tell ya, the Dutch are weeping
In four languages at least
Oloron, pro-rae
And Burton is weeping
Put your claim into Tempo House
Go round there and have a grouse
Go round, have a grouse
Put your claim into Tempo House
Illness, pollution, should be encouraged and let loose
Then maybe some would have a genuine grouse
Spring right out of the fetters
Right away from 63 Market Place
Tempo House address
Pro-rae, pro-rae
Oloron
Winston Churchill had a speech impediment
And look what he did
He razed half of London
And the Dutch are weeping
Lusted after French paintings
Pro-rae, pro-rae
Oloron, oloron

Put your claim into Tempo House
Go round there and have a grouse
Go round, have a grouse
Put your claim into Tempo House
Pro-rae