Credits

Track Listing

1. Let Them Eat Rock
2. Little Lord Fauntleroy
3. Rock 'n' Roll Butler
4. Minuet
5. Who's Who of Love
6. I've Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie
7. Old Money
8. Friend of a Friend of the Working Class
9. RSVP
10. Little Rickshaw Boy
11. Opera Glass
12. Balderdash (Hidden track that's actually about 8:47 into track 11.)

Lyrics

Let Them Eat Rock, sung by Lord Bendover

They say there's people starving,  dropping down dead in the streets
The lazy slobs, they ain't got a job, they say they ain't got enough to eat 
Let Them Eat Rock

They're picking through the garbage behind my favorite restaurant
They're sickly pale, they're thin as a rail
I don't know what in the hell they want
Let Them Eat Rock

I myself have felt a pang of hunger, but I know about one thing worse
And that's the way I feel after a twelve course meal
when I feel like I'm about to burst
Let Them Eat Rock

Little Lord Fauntleroy, sung by Lord Bendover

He wears his hair in curls
He looks just like a girl
He's in his own little world
I said my, my he's a beautiful boy --
That Little Lord Fauntleroy, hey hey hey

He wears pantaloons
He likes a French perfume
He wanna sleep 'til noon
He's his mother's pride and his father's joy --
That Little Lord Fauntleroy, hey hey hey

I caught him playing with his hard-on
In the formal garden
He said whoops beg your pardon
These are the things that he enjoys --
That Little Lord Fauntleroy, hey hey hey
The Little Lord Fauntleroy

Rock 'n' Roll Butler, sung by Lord Bendover

Hey everybody, look what I found
Simply the best manservant in town
He's neat and discreet, he couldn't be any subtler
This is the story of my Rock 'n' Roll Butler
I don't care, I don't care what kind of clothes he wears
'Cause I know this - my Rock 'n' Roll Butler's always debonair
Rock 'n' Roll Butler, Rock 'n' Roll Butler, Rock 'n' Roll

See her there scrubbing away at the dirt
Bending and stretching in her little tight skirt
She says I'm much nicer than the Marquis De Sade
This is the story of my little French maid
I don't mind, I don't mind if she just speaks French
'Cause in my mind, whatever she says you know it just makes sense
Rock 'n' Roll maid, Rock 'n' Roll maid, Rock 'n' Roll

Hey everybody, have you seen
The driver of my black limousine
He wears a black cap and some black penny loafers
This is the story of my Rock 'n' Roll Chauffeur
I don't mind, I don't mind how far he roams
'Cause I know this - my Rock 'n' Roll Chauffeur's gonna get me home
Rock 'n' Roll Chauffeur, Rock 'n' Roll Chauffeur, Rock 'n' Roll

Minuet, sung by Lord Rockingham

Gonna dance a Minuet
Gonna do a little pirouette 
You bet

Gonna dance a Minuet
With Marie Antoinette
You bet

Gonna be your sixty-second man
Gonna try every trick I can
I am

Gonna dance a Minuet
Gonna dance like Dave Fredette
You bet

Who's Who Of Love, sung by Lord Bendover

She caught my eye at the formal function
Well she was pretty high-class that was my assumption
Her gown was satin made to measure
And she wore shoes of patent leather
She's looking well-bred to me, I guess she's got her pedigree
I'm puttin' you in my Who's Who of Love

I tried to take a chance if we could meet
But she stood there staring at her dainty feet
I found that she was not alone
She'd brought her aunt to chaperone
She's looking well-bred to me, I guess she's got her pedigree
I'm puttin' you in my Who's Who of Love

I tried to find out 'bout her family tree
If she had high-class genealogy
She looked like she could be the one for me
She looked descended from nobility
She's looking well-bred to me, I guess she's got her pedigree
I'm puttin' you in my Who's Who of Love

I Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie, sung by Lord Bendover

I Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie, the situation's tricky
I got a new pair of spats but aside from that
I don't wanna seem too picky
Someone help me through this wicket, 'cause it's awfully sticky
I Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie

Which one will it be, well I can't decide for the life of me
Ascot's so refined, but a dickie gonna blow your mind
If I could just make up my mind I'd be out there in a jiffy
I Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie

I got my top hat and my cane, well I really can't complain
I got my cummerbund and though it weighs a ton
I got my pure gold watch and chain
Old school tie's gettin' washed and dried 'cause it's so old it's icky
I Got My Ascot 'n' My Dickie

Old Money, sung by Lord Bendover

Daddy wants me to marry this girl
She's the richest old lady in the whole wide world
Well she ain't too good-looking and she's kinda old
But she don't have to be my rainbow she's my pot of gold
She's Old Money, she comes from Old Money

Well she's got a certain charm that's what he said
Which you stand to inherit when she finally drops dead
She's a little bit skinny and she's kinda shy
But her bank account really caught my eye
She's Old Money, she comes from Old Money

I'm gonna buy her a ring just as fast as I can
And ask that lady for her wrinkled old hand
And if she says yes and that she'll be mine
I hear the church bells ringin' up the dollar signs
She's Old Money, she comes from Old Money

Friend of a Friend of the Working Class, sung by Lords Rockingham (1st verse) and Bendover

You get up in the morning to join the common herd
Your lot is a hard one, or so I have heard
I know how hard it is to bust one's ass
'Cause I'm a Friend of a Friend of the Working Class
I'm a Friend of a Friend yeah,
I'm a Friend of a Friend of your class

I heard about the working man what they say
How the working man slaves his life away
And though I never had to work an honest day myself
'Cause since the day I was born I been rollin' in wealth
I heard how the work just never stops
How the working man works 'til he's ready to drop
And you know I can well imagine what it must be like
Though my own hands are just soft and white
But I know what it's like to have to bust your ass
'Cause I'm a Friend of a Friend of the Working Class

Well the working man he can't never win
Every job he gets done has to do it again
And I can really believe that it must be tough
No matter how hard he works it ain't never enough
He got to run when the boss is callin'
I find the whole thing simply appalling
He can't barely fulfill his own basic needs
Every little baby 'nother mouth to feed
But I know what it's like to have to bust your ass
'Cause I'm a Friend of a Friend of the Working Class

RSVP, sung by Lord Rockingham

I couldn't possibly tonight
I couldn't possibly that's right
I've made these plans you see, to go to the symphony
It's really most inconvenient
RSVP no tonight, regrets only tonight

I can't make love to you right now
I can't make love to you and how
Some other time perhaps, there are always other chaps
Who will oblige you in a moment
RSVP no tonight, regrets only tonight

I can't make love to you today
Some other time if I may
I really do care but I'm fixing my hair
First things first my little bumblebee
RSVP no tonight, regrets only tonight

Love to but I can't tonight
Love to but I can't tonight
Some other time perchance, we'll have that disco dance
I can hardly wait my little angel pants
RSVP no tonight, regrets only tonight

Little Rickshaw Boy, sung by Lord Bendover

I arrived in Hong Kong harbor seems like yesterday
When something occurred I'll remember the rest of my days
I was there to inspect our bank holdings
As our Far East investment was in danger of folding
And I got myself a Little Rickshaw Boy

I said chop chop to the Little Rickshaw Boy
But he could hardly move and I became annoyed
As he trembled and looked about to fall
I cursed my luck and as the rickshaw stalled
I said move you nasty Little Rickshaw Boy

The Little Rickshaw Boy looked gravely ill
As he staggered on so slow I could have killed
I suffered such grave inconvenience
I could hardly be expected to be lenient
said run you nasty Little Rickshaw Boy

Just as we got to the bank the boy collapsed
In a puddle of mud and filth he gasped his last
And I stepped over him as expired
Then I turned around and said you're fired
You sickly lazy Little Rickshaw Boy
You Little Rickshaw Boy

Opera Glass, sung by Lord Bendover

When I look through my opera glass I feel I'm looking in the past
The fat lady sings just for me
I feel that I can clearly see
And I feel like a member of the cast
When I look through my opera glass

When I'm up in my private box I take off my shoes
And take off my socks
Then I gaze down upon the stage
Through my opera glass I'm truly amazed
And I know I'm upper class
When I look through my opera glass

I want to sing the baritone, it doesn't matter if I'm stone deaf
Or if the language I don't know, in neither bass nor treble clef

When I look through my Opera Glass I feel I'm looking in the past
The fat lady sings just for me, I feel that I can clearly see
And I feel like a member of the cast
When I look through my opera glass

Balderdash, sung by Lord Bendover

They said we couldn't rock, we were too rich
But we can dig it just like any peasant in his ditch
You say we're too high class, but that's Balderdash

If you doubt us tune up our guitars
And when you're done with that bring 'round the car
You say we're too high class, but that's Balderdash

We're a class act, hard to follow
But you might think we're hard to swallow
We know how to rock you tonight, all night and all through tomorrow

They said we don't deserve to sing the blues
When dividends have always paid our dues
You say we're too high class, but that's Balderdash