[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