- To Coton I came seeking fortune
- But they’re making me work 'til I’m dead
- The Citizens have it so easy
- The Watch are putting gold on their bread
- The people of Coton are hungry
- But think what a feast there could be
- If we could create a socialist state
- That cared for the people like me:
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That descend upon me from up above.
- They come down and I spin them around
- Until they fit in the ground like hand in glove.
- Sometimes it seems that to move blocks is fine
- And the lines will be formed as they fall -
- Then I see that I have misjudged it!
- I should not have nudged it after all.
- Can I have a long one please?
- Why must these infernal blocks tease?
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That continue to fall from up above.
- Come Cotonite! Let the workers unite!
- A collective regime of peace and love.
- I work so hard in arranging the blocks
- But the landlord and taxman bleed me dry
- But the workers will rise! We will not compromise
- For we know that the old regime must die.
- Long live Talis, kill the Watch!
- We salute the Coton Manor!
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That continue to fall from up above.
- The food on your plate now belongs to the state
- A collective regime of peace and love.
- I have no choice in arranging the blocks
- Under Militia rule, what they say goes.
- The rule of the game is we all are the same
- And my blocks must create unbroken rows.
- Long live Coton! We love you!
- Sing these words, or you know what he’ll do...
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That are made by the men from the old town.
- They come two weeks late and they don’t tessellate
- But we’re working to Coton's five year plan.
- I am the man who arranges the ranks
- That will make all the City keep away
- The attack is dead, and Coton is Red!
- Let us point all our men at the Wessex Arms.
- We shall live forever more!
- We can start a civil war!
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That is mending our burned manor house.
- Hip hip hurrah for Coton Manor!
- We are sending our men into the 'Arms.
- I work so hard in arranging the blocks
- But each night I go home to my wife in tears -
- What’s the point of it all, when you’re building a wall
- And in front of your eyes it disappears?
- Pointless work for pointless pay
- This is one game I shall not play.
- I am the man who arranges the blocks!
- But tomorrow I think I’ll stay in bed.
- The winter is cold, I’ve got plenty of cash
- And I’m standing in line for a loaf of bread
- Maybe we’d be better off
- If we stayed in Wessex
- I am the man who arranges the blocks
- That continue to fall from up above.
- The markets are free! So much money for me!
- Tell me, why should I care for peace and love?
- The markets are free! So much money for me!
- Tell me, why should I care for peace and love?
- Peace and love, peace and love!
- And now the wall is down, the Marxists frown
- There’s foreign shops all over town
- When in the square, well don’t despair
- There's Temples and Colleges there
- The City gave us Alchemy
- And the boss drank himself to death
- But now that John's put the boot in,
- Who’ll get in our way?
- So we reject free enterprise
- And once again the left will rise.
- Prepare the flags to be unfurled
- For we’re seceding from the world:
- We shall regain the Coton soil
- We shall obtain the house again
- We shall arrange the blocks and toil
- Forever and a day.
- Game over.