In The Frame
The dinosaurs are coming!
The zombies walk the floors!
The air is thick with drumming!
Here come the Tory wars!
Get me off this planet, please sir,
They’re ganging up on St. Theresa!
The mummies fill the crescents,
Their bandages are yellow –
Their eyes are pure putrescence,
Their brains are made of Jell-O –
Oh hide my beezer in a freezer,
They’re ganging up on St. Theresa!
Take all of my backhanders!
The mutant ghouls are howling!
There’s blood on all their danders
And their werewolf eyes are scowling –
As I’m a gold-and-diamond geezer,
They’re ganging up on St. Theresa!
The evil dead are busy,
The locusts swarm the skies,
It’s one great Tory tizzy,
It’s like a plague of flies –
There’s twenty stabbers after Caesar,
They’re ganging up on St. Theresa!
