Just who in the hell Do you think that you are You’re the runt at the bottom Not the damn Superstar There’s a cart full of apples You can see ‘em right there They didn’t just lob Straight out of thin air They took time to ripen And they’ll finish in order They came from down South Just over the border And he made it quite clear The little one at the bottom Was not to be trusted It was useless and rotten But old man he lied, And he lied and he lied Till truth left the building Turned tail and died For the one at the bottom Was the shiniest of all Was the little red apple The Belle of the Ball The Cock of the Walk The Fonz and The Man But whatever the cost It must not make a stand For the tasteless and flowery In the rest of the bunch Must serve up their foe And have it for lunch For the shine that it has Would blind an ordinary man But there’s nothing as ordinary As an inglorious man And try as you will To stop ye your god Cause you might have the staff But he’s got the rod And try as you will To stop ye your god Cause you might have the staff But he’s got the rod
