Lyrics:

With the briefest wave, in a fearful rush
I climb aboard the omnibus
So far, I failed to make the conductor laugh
But I'll join in with him if he does
Oh, dear Mother: what you doing here?
Don't remind me, get behind me, just sit in your silver chair

There are sandbags out along the Strand
They've all gone raving, to a man
Make no excuse for lazybones
No one to guard the old homeland
Oh, good Godmother: what you doing here?
Don't alarm me, nothing can harm me if I close my ears

The secretary, the sandwich girl
Have left to join the underworld
The files are empty, the lines are dead
The accountant's blood is in the red
Oh, my Godmother: what you doing here?
My case is locked and my luncheon box is as full as it appears

Oh, come on, Miss Hatchet, let me take you to a restaurant
Where the price is very cheap
And we'll dance all night at the club around the corner
'Til it's time to go to bed… sleep

The walls are shedding a lethal skin
Of TV-active social sins
It's a simple phase of growing pains
We're all just fast cars in slow lanes
Oh, good Godmother: here you come again
It's a pleasant night for sleeping tight with the book of family games