I don’t have an accent
I don’t have millions in the bank
Yet, you find my words delightful
I’m flattered & furiously thank
I Don’t Have An Accent
thank
With The Inmates Running The Asylum
With the inmates running the asylum
The cavernous tunnels are cold & dank
It can be difficult to remember the faces
The ones who put you here, the ones to thank
But we’re not twiddling our thumbs at night
We’re sharpening our words for vengeful retort
You think we’re numbed & harmless fools
Our bunker: in the guise of a blanket fort
