Lyrics:

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 everyday
On closed circuit TV
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 (Hello Maggie!)
Mr. Brezhnev and party
(Scusi dov'è il bar?)
The ghost of McCarthy,
And the memories of Nixon
And now, adding colour (Da questa parte)
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 abuse 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
Their favourite toy
They’ll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial
Home for Colonial
Wasters of Life and Limb
Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
(Goodbye!)
Now the final solution can be applied