I don't know
What happened to the boy
Poor slave toy
To the old sardine can
Either way, he'd dead for all I care
They are all dead, for all I care

As an iron rule of thumb
Voice and vision must be one
Grateful to the hands you bring
But quietly the angels sing

Politeness was the hand that wrote
His name on parchment, graciously
Only a servant by my side
They only help he could provide

'Cause as an iron rule of thumb
Voice and vision must be one
Grateful to the hands you bring
But quietly the servants sing

Politeness was the hand that wrote
(Politeness was the hand that wrote)
His name on parchment, graciously
(His name on parchment)
Only a servant by my side
They only help he could provide

'Cause as an iron rule of thumb
Voice and vision must be one
Grateful to the hands you bring
But quietly the peasants sing

Oh, oh, oh, oh