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Key to authors' pseudonyms |
On the stage in the spotlight they innocently stand
In all their carefree youthfulness, the members of the band
Yet they're destined all to disappear like footprints in the sand
From drink, drugs or cancer of the prostate gland
You'd have to be the Lord God Almighty to have planned
An organ whose utility no scientists understand
Till it breaks down and you feel the doctor's gloved and groping hand
In search of a malfunctioning prostate gland
It has proved the undoing of the humble and the grand
Rupert Murdoch, Frank Zappa and François Mitterand
Desmond Tutu, maybe you too, (but not Barbara Streisand)
Have all fallen victim to a wonky prostate gland
(Coda)
You may keep your fingers crossed, mate
But one day all will be lost, mate
When you're definitively prostrate
A victim of your prostate gland |
