Thanks to the fathers of fortunate sons
Of the chumps and the fools
Those stories will make true believers
For you it's a matter of blood and connections
By the sins and the schemes of your father
For us it's a matter of charging the gates
For us it's a matter of charging the gates
Drink well from your bottomless cup
So why do you speak with that accent now?
The fortunes from shipping and industry
Will you build yourself up, like the size of your hunt?
Thanks to the fathers of fortunate sons
Draw wealth from the funds in the trust
For you it's a matter of blood
Everyone knows your moonlighting here
Everyone knows you're not who you seem
And what will you tell of your tenure with us?
I know everyone does their own reinvention
For you it's a matter of blood and connections
For us it's a matter of charging the gates
The escape, the charade and your time in the sun
So who do you fool with that costume now?
Of blood and connections
But yours has a taste that's hard to swallow
The futures in yacht clubs and tales
You went to prep school in Cambridge
With daughters and sons of the privileged elite
Draw wealth from the funds in the trust
To avail yourself of your heritage
You've got a hard way about you
And the infinite reach of his arm
If they're anything like what you've been telling us
For a season or two in the sun
For someone who's passage is already paid
So where will you be when you tire of the fun?
So why do you speak with that accent now?
And bask in your good fortune
