Oh out near Stonehenge, I lived alone
Oh out near Gamehendge, I chafed a bone
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards, I beg it all trune for you
Talk my duke a mountain, Helping Friendly Book
Inasfar as fiefdom, I think you bad crook
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards, I beg it all trune for you
I talked to my son Roger, Rutherford the same
[or "I talked to Mike Christian, Rog and Pete the same"]
When we had that meeting, over down near Game(henge)
Wilson, King of Prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, Duke of Lizards, I beg it all trune for you
You got me back thinkin' that you're the worst one
I must inquire, Wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson
Meanwhile, in the main square in Prussia, the state of the revolution was taking another turn for the worst. A crowd of townspeople had gathered to witness the hanging of Wilson's accountant, Mr. Palmer. It seemed that Palmer had been a revolutionary himself and had been extorting Wilson's money to fund the revolution. Palmer stood on the scaffold with Wilson and the AC/DC Bag, an electrified robot-hangman with a black bag over his head. Wilson seemed pleased as he began to speak.
