Lyrics:

Old man Wibble,
Lush diviner,
Duke of babble,
Mad soothsayer
Drunken oracle drinks
The Liquid Jesus
Straight from the bottle.
Spirituous Sancti,
Like God full throttle.
The Bedlamite seer
Fortune teller croons,
'Write your own fable.
Believe it'll all work out.'

'It's gonna be all right.
It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'

'Raise,' he says, 'raise a glass
'Raise a glass to our, our heterogeneity
Our remarkable resilience through calamity.'
'Raise,' he says, 'raise a glass
'Raise a glass to our, our heterogeneity
Our remarkable resilience through calamity.'

Old man Wibble,
Duke of babble,
Drank straight from the bottle,
Danced on the table.
Fortune teller croons,
'The world may tipple.
The world may wobble.'
'Raise your bottle
Of God full throttle,
The Liquid Jesus,
Spiritous Sancti.
Write your own fable
Believe it'll all work out.'

'It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'
'It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'
'It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'
'It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'

'Raise a glass
'Raise a glass to our, our heterogeneity
Beautiful delirium
Our remarkable resilience through calamity.'
'Raise a glass
'Raise a glass to our, our heterogeneity
Our remarkable resilience through calamity.'

'It's gonna be all right.
It's gonna be all right.
It's gonna be all right.
Everything will be all right.'