"How Everybody But Sam Was A Hypcrite" as written by and David Cousins....
Half a bitter for the vicar
He's here to save his soul
He's looking fat and jovial
Though he's nearly on the dole
Anne riley cooks his dinner
She keeps him washed and fed
She doesn't need much prompting
To jump into his bead

And they all think think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
But they're not
Oh no they're not

Dr. Watson drinks hard whiskeys
He's nearly always high
He supplements his income
Aborting on the sly
Ms. Thompson is an angel
In the W.V.S
Her meals on wheels on very cheap
And she cooks the books for less

And they all think think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
But they're not
Oh no they're not

Sammy Cohen is the bookie
Sitting over there
Drinking three star brandies
He doesn't seem to care
No one wants to know him
They say he's been inside
They say his dear old mother
Committed suicide

And they all think think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
Yes they all think they're so grand
But they're not
Oh no they're not

Dr. Watson charged Anne Riley
A fiftey guinea fea
For Mr. Thompsons peace of mind
As far as I can see
Mrs. Thompson envies Annie
Cooking for the preacher
And everyone thinks Sam
Ss a quite disgusting creature
But if the truth was known
It would shake all their foundations
It seems the preacher lives
On Sam's anonymous donations


Lyrics submitted by TalusTerrapin

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