It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead Get a phone call from the queen with a hundred heads She says that they're all dead She tried the last one on, couldn't speak, fell off And now she just wanders a hall Thinking nothing, thinking nothing at all Once there was a man who had a little too much Time on his hand and never stopped to think that he was getting older But when his night came to an end He tried to grasp for his last friend And pretend that he could wish himself health on a four-leaf clover Get a phone call from the queen with a hundred heads She says that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead It seems that they're all dead