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 every day
on closed circuit T.V.
to make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel
"Ladies and Gentlemen please [bad word] Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friend Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and party
The ghost of McCarthy
The memories of Nixon
And now adding colour 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 amuse 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
With their favourite toys
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