Papering over the cracks in the wall where the world creeps in

A hot cup of coffee, fairy-tale cakes and the sun shines in

Sunday mornings out in the potting shed

Reality rhymes with a watercolour flower bed

 

Mr Goodman closed his eyes and the world was warmer

He did not notice that the dream was over

Oh! Mr Goodman!

Happy to bury your head in the sand

 

But he's a nice guy, a fine fellow, decent chap, a good egg

Upstanding, ethical, principled, not radical

He swears blind everything's coming up roses

Everything's gonna be fine, everything's coming up roses

Mr Goodman hides

 

Mr Goodman turns a blind eye

Happy just to let it be

It'll all work out for the better

Just you wait and see

 

Mr Goodman asks no questions

Mr Goodman hears no lies

Such a lucky man

 

Cos he's straightforward, upright, honest and dependable

He's true, incorruptible and bloody well respectable

He swears blind everything's coming up roses

Everything's gonna be fine, everything's coming up roses

Mr Goodman hides

Oh oh Mr Goodman

Pulling the wool right over his own eyes

Everything's coming up roses

Mr Goodman hides