They calculate how much it takes to starve a rat
And send it out to me
Sleeping in the trap
Begrudging everything
They're keen to deal with me
So yesterday early
This lad informs me

These are better days
To stop your money
There's no more money
We've already paid
You're making money
I said you're joking

The rich are out to get to me
They want to see me hung drawn and quartered
You bastards give me heat
And I will paint you drunk
It's not much to do
It's all I can do
But one day soon
The poor will deal with you

Make your will out, mate
They know your names and they know your faces
Make your will out, mate
They know your names and they know your faces
They will deal with you
They'll really deal with you


Lyrics submitted by epiwoosh

Frans Hals song meanings
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