Everyone knows you're not
You went to prep school in Cambridge
Their fortunes from shipping and industry
Their futures in yacht clubs and tails
So why do you speak with that
Everyone knows you're moonlighting here
To avail yourself of your heritage
For a season or two in the sun
Draw well from the funds in the trust
Thanks to the fathers of fortunate sons
For us it's a matter of charging the gates
For you it's a matter of blood
Drink well from your bottomless cup
And bask in your good fortune
For us it's a matter of charging the gates
So where will you be when
and your time in the sun?
I know everyone does their
But yours has a taste that's
And what will you tell of your tenure with us?
Will you build yourself up,
like the size of your hunt?
If they're anything like what you've
Those stories will make true believers
Of the chumps and the fools
