Your uncle's scandals shook the house of lords
Your daddy's squeezed out as Chairman of the Board
No more doctors write you no more 'scripts
No more intercontinental trips
No more luxuries
No more luxuries
No more crystal pistols up your nose
The dry cleaner wants money on the clothes
The Rolls Royce, my dear . . . need it be said?
If I were you I would think
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