The Fletcher Memorial Home 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.

They can appear to themselves every day

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, Mr. Brezhnev and party,

the ghost of McCarthy

and the memories of Nixon.

And now, adding color, 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 favorite 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?

Now the final solution can be applied!