Mark Lenover The Plagiarists
When the knell sounds
We'll be called to account
And to justify
All the time that we've wasted ironing the emperor's new clothes
The cuckoo's are repeating,
'I know it all, I know.'
Just an echoing parody passing it's dross off as gold
I know
I know
Well, I know
Of that stylish chapel
Where the plagiarists babble
And smoke
I know
Of that great, worm-ridden apple
Yeah, the parasite's addle-brained host
I know
With trend-setting arrogance
Fashionable mannequins take their turns
They're all blank and ridiculous, wrapped in thick blankets of smoke
Now their mockingbird's singing,
'I know it all. I know.'
It's a pompous, preposterous, grotesquely meaningless joke
Well, I know
Of that stylish chapel
Where the plagiarists babble
And smoke
I know
Of that great, worm-ridden apple
The parasite's addle-brained host