Lonesome And Sad Millionaire - Paul Heaton, Jacqui Abbott

The heating’s broke down in the west wing

The tractor’s stuck up in the field

Most of the workforce I care to employ

Ain’t worth the harvest they yield

The horses need feeding, radiators need bleeding

The whole place is springing a leak

The drive’s overgrown, the garden’s unmown

And the phone hasn’t rung in a week

When I look for my friends and I check all the pubs

It seems that not one of them’s there

I wish I could say the same for my loot

I’m a lonesome and sad millionaire

The butcher’s closed up in the 90s

Post office, the rest just like that

Every shop that I chose, either emptied or closed

Every time I popped in for a chat

My Big Issues delivered in rain storm or blizzard

So I don’t touch the hand of the poor

The gate is so high, the hedges touch the sky

So it’s only the butler what saw

When I go to the bank and I check my account

It’s always the case it’s all there

I wish I say for the same for my friends

I’m a lonesome and sad millionaire

And they say there’s a financial crisis

And they say that austerity’s king

But these fountains don’t flow where the money don’t go

And a cherub don’t piss from a spring

And now the planes are knee-deep to a giant

And the water’s coming in round my ears

And the party they send, just like my friends

Won’t turn up to save me for years

Won’t turn up to save me for years…

When I look for my friends and I check all the pubs

It seems that not one of them’s there

I wish I could say the same for my loot

I’m a lonesome and sad…

I’m a weary and bad

I’m a lonesome and sad

Millionaire…