Fergus Laing

verse 1 Fergus Laing is a beast of a man He stitches up and fleeces He wants to manicure the world And sell it off in pieces He likes to build his towers high He blocks the sun out of the sky In the penthouse the champagne's dry And slightly gassy verse 2 Fergus Laing, he works so hard As busy as a bee is Fergus Laing has seventeen friends All as dull as he is His seventeen friends have seventeen wives All the perfect shape and size They wag their tails and bat their eyes Just like Lassie Fergus Laing he builds and builds Yet small is his erection Fergus Laing has a fine head of hair When the wind's in the right direction the wind's in the right direction verse 3 Fergus Laing and his seventeen friends They live inside a bubble There they withdraw and shut the door At any sign of trouble Should the peasants wail and vent And ask him where the money went He'll simply say, it's all been spent On being classy verse 4 Fergus' buildings reach the sky Until you cannot see 'em He thinks the old stuff he pulls down Belongs in a museum His own fair home is on the Park an airy jewel, a city ark Hung with Picasso, hung with Braque but nothing brassy Fergus Laing he builds and builds Yet small is his erection Fergus Laing has a fine head of hair When the wind's in the right direction the wind's in the right direction Alternate verse 4 His fits are famous on the scene The shortest fuse, so cruel, so mean But don't call him a drama queen Like Shirley Bassey Fergus Laing he flaunts the law But one day he'll be wired And as they drag him off to jail We'll all shout, "You're fired!"