I don't know What happened to the boy Poor slave toy To the old sardine can Either way, he'd dead for all I care They are all dead, for all I care As an iron rule of thumb Voice and vision must be one Grateful to the hands you bring But quietly the angels sing Politeness was the hand that wrote His name on parchment, graciously Only a servant by my side They only help he could provide 'Cause as an iron rule of thumb Voice and vision must be one Grateful to the hands you bring But quietly the servants sing Politeness was the hand that wrote (Politeness was the hand that wrote) His name on parchment, graciously (His name on parchment) Only a servant by my side They only help he could provide 'Cause as an iron rule of thumb Voice and vision must be one Grateful to the hands you bring But quietly the peasants sing Oh, oh, oh, oh