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where are my trousers,
where are my sox?
maybe my clothes
are in this box.

i don't want to go outside this naked
coffee is hot and buns are baked

where is the servant,
where's the miss?
do you think i want
any of this?

i don't want to go outside where people
can be so bad and so unstable
treat me so unkind

i don't want to stay inside because i...
oh, never mind

which is the father
which is the son,
me or the other
with sox on?

i don't want to have more buns or toffee,
maybe i'll try some irish coffee

where is the glory,
where's my gun?
maybe this story
ain't so fun

i don't want to see so much bounty
i don't want to hear those songs so jaunty
'freedom will someday come'

I don't want to hear those songs because
the freedom will never come