Текст Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott – Lonesome And Sad Millionaire

The heating’s broke down in the west wing
The tractor’s stuck up in the field
Most of the workforce I care to employ
Ain’t worth the harvest they yield

The horses need feeding, radiators need bleeding
The whole place is springing a leak
The drive’s overgrown, the garden’s unmown
And the phone hasn’t rung in a week

When I look for my friends and I check all the pubs
It seems that not one of them’s there
I wish I could say the same for my loot
I’m a lonesome and sad millionaire

The butcher’s closed up in the 90s
Post office, the rest just like that
Every shop that I chose, either emptied or closed
Every time I popped in for a chat

My Big Issues delivered in rain storm or blizzard
So I don’t touch the hand of the poor
The gate is so high, the hedges touch the sky
So it’s only the butler what saw

When I go to the bank and I check my account
It’s always the case, it’s all there
I wish I say for the same for my friends
I’m a lonesome and sad millionaire

And they say there’s a financial crisis
And they say that austerity’s king
But these fountains don’t flow where the money don’t go
And a cherub don’t piss from a spring

And now the planes are knee-deep to a giant
And the water’s coming in round my ears

Won’t turn up to save me for years…

When I look for my friends and I check all the pubs
It seems that not one of them’s there
I wish I could say the same for my loot
I’m a lonesome and sad…

I’m a weary and bad
I’m a lonesome and sad
Millionaire…