Celtic Pink Floyd The Fletcher Memorial Home song 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. Began and friend, Mrs.Thatcher, the Paisly

(Hello Maggie!)

Mr. Brezhnev and party, the Ghost of McCarthy

And the memories have mixed and now adding color

(Who's the bald chap?)

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 please themselves by playing games for a while

Boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye

With their favorite toy

There'll be good girls 'n' boys

In the Fletcher Memorial Home for colonial

Wasters of life and limb

Is everyone in?

Are you having English time?

(Big guy)

Now final solution can be applied