[Verse 1]

Theres a lumberjack in the back of a shack so old, cold full of mold treated like a sold household

Fold the package smuggled gold for the exhibition

Signing the next petition

Bring more food for the poor

Gather loot from the store

Open the door

Spill the goods on the floor

Until they want more and more

Tell them to reach out find the core

Til their sorrows are sore

Piano