There's room at the top, grey's queen told you so
Making art to enhance the dames' dull daft glow
Of disposition be it a paltry show
Not doing no wrong, it's so weird we're told
And the rot will make with Miss Kali's knife
Cut the fear like hot butter, so tight, aight
You snipped the cord, a rusty string
Not a notch for him, just a pretty thing
To make you ring or sing, the melody behind all the ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba things
There's a man on the tele who loves little ones
And he laughs with his gun, as he makes them hum
Oh and I hope you find solace inside this cell
Cause we all call for hanging, he's lived far too well
And there's a string pulling, back and forth inside out, through in everything
Ahhh ah Ahhhh ah ah ah ah ohhhh
It's closed for question, it's closed for calm
The podium is sinking and they've sounded the alarm
Hush little baby don't say a word, this is love for one, it's not absurd
There's a string pulling, back and forth inside out, through in everything
There's a string pulling, back and forth inside out, through in everything