Old brigadier
Old lady pack
Cold cold cold unfresh groceries

Old brigadier
Scissors fall down
Fall down fall down like rain

And it will never stop, no it never stops

Old brigadier
Himself inside
Some tiny little
Little little tiny little oven

And it’s over
For him, her and me
And for everybody else
So we all take our sits
In a bus straight to hell

We’re all clowns

Old brigadier
Used to fly so up high
But now he’s
Roasted, toasted, crunchy, crispy,