| Song | Mr. Blessington’s Imperialist Plot |
| Artist | Astronautalis |
| Album | DANCEHALLHORNSOUND!! |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Pretty Patricia was a nervous wreck | |
| Deadened by the Darvocet | |
| Furnished by a charlatan | |
| Posing as a pharmacist | |
| Propped behind a pearly desk | |
| She hoists the phone with burdened breath | |
| And hands she holds for reasons wanton | |
| Is the whirling dervish games | |
| This is just the receptionist | |
| The skeletons and hallowed halls | |
| Outnumber every worker bee buzzing right through this honey comb | |
| And I am just a lonely drone | |
| With a notepad and a picture phone | |
| Whose nectar is a collection of transgressions and subversive flaws | |
| Darrell's darling carries all of HR on his back | |
| Can only hide Gisette because the fetish waftings of croquettes | |
| Well Mrs. Darla’s down the hall | |
| She keeps a watchful eye | |
| It's on accounts receivable | |
| Leaving it blind to the concubine | |
| Lady Darla’s not the cleanest | |
| Grape inside the crops | |
| She keeps her eyes inside accountants | |
| As she skims right off the top | |
| Her saccharine little skins of cream | |
| She sneaks out in her hosiery | |
| To hopefully she pumps the petty plunder in the slots | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting all the dirt | |
| To build a tower to the sky | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| She was so outwardly nonpareil | |
| I was enraptured by the act | |
| Of cracking her seamless shell | |
| Catching Esteban with hand in his till is muy facil | |
| But this girl's skills are past the run of the mill | |
| We command with abandon the plot | |
| Take what he got | |
| Setting up shop with a cloud 8 view at the top | |
| And everybody’s got bones | |
| Hers are harder to spot | |
| With her appointments pinned down and her hair done up | |
| I devote everything that I’ve got | |
| To stalking this fox | |
| There's got to be a fracture in her porcelain plot | |
| That’s where I slipped up | |
| Lost in her wash | |
| She doubled back upon her tracks and she caught me off guard | |
| She’s impossibly smart | |
| I am defeated at my own game | |
| Caught me collecting dirt | |
| To blackmail them for my own gain | |
| A tower made of dirt | |
| Is just a castle built from glass | |
| And a pocket full of stones until the last one's cast | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting so much dirt | |
| That I was buried down alive | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die |
| Pretty Patricia was a nervous wreck | |
| Deadened by the Darvocet | |
| Furnished by a charlatan | |
| Posing as a pharmacist | |
| Propped behind a pearly desk | |
| She hoists the phone with burdened breath | |
| And hands she holds for reasons wanton | |
| Is the whirling dervish games | |
| This is just the receptionist | |
| The skeletons and hallowed halls | |
| Outnumber every worker bee buzzing right through this honey comb | |
| And I am just a lonely drone | |
| With a notepad and a picture phone | |
| Whose nectar is a collection of transgressions and subversive flaws | |
| Darrell' s darling carries all of HR on his back | |
| Can only hide Gisette because the fetish waftings of croquettes | |
| Well Mrs. Darla' s down the hall | |
| She keeps a watchful eye | |
| It' s on accounts receivable | |
| Leaving it blind to the concubine | |
| Lady Darla' s not the cleanest | |
| Grape inside the crops | |
| She keeps her eyes inside accountants | |
| As she skims right off the top | |
| Her saccharine little skins of cream | |
| She sneaks out in her hosiery | |
| To hopefully she pumps the petty plunder in the slots | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting all the dirt | |
| To build a tower to the sky | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| She was so outwardly nonpareil | |
| I was enraptured by the act | |
| Of cracking her seamless shell | |
| Catching Esteban with hand in his till is muy facil | |
| But this girl' s skills are past the run of the mill | |
| We command with abandon the plot | |
| Take what he got | |
| Setting up shop with a cloud 8 view at the top | |
| And everybody' s got bones | |
| Hers are harder to spot | |
| With her appointments pinned down and her hair done up | |
| I devote everything that I' ve got | |
| To stalking this fox | |
| There' s got to be a fracture in her porcelain plot | |
| That' s where I slipped up | |
| Lost in her wash | |
| She doubled back upon her tracks and she caught me off guard | |
| She' s impossibly smart | |
| I am defeated at my own game | |
| Caught me collecting dirt | |
| To blackmail them for my own gain | |
| A tower made of dirt | |
| Is just a castle built from glass | |
| And a pocket full of stones until the last one' s cast | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting so much dirt | |
| That I was buried down alive | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die |
| Pretty Patricia was a nervous wreck | |
| Deadened by the Darvocet | |
| Furnished by a charlatan | |
| Posing as a pharmacist | |
| Propped behind a pearly desk | |
| She hoists the phone with burdened breath | |
| And hands she holds for reasons wanton | |
| Is the whirling dervish games | |
| This is just the receptionist | |
| The skeletons and hallowed halls | |
| Outnumber every worker bee buzzing right through this honey comb | |
| And I am just a lonely drone | |
| With a notepad and a picture phone | |
| Whose nectar is a collection of transgressions and subversive flaws | |
| Darrell' s darling carries all of HR on his back | |
| Can only hide Gisette because the fetish waftings of croquettes | |
| Well Mrs. Darla' s down the hall | |
| She keeps a watchful eye | |
| It' s on accounts receivable | |
| Leaving it blind to the concubine | |
| Lady Darla' s not the cleanest | |
| Grape inside the crops | |
| She keeps her eyes inside accountants | |
| As she skims right off the top | |
| Her saccharine little skins of cream | |
| She sneaks out in her hosiery | |
| To hopefully she pumps the petty plunder in the slots | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting all the dirt | |
| To build a tower to the sky | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| One day this will all be mine | |
| She was so outwardly nonpareil | |
| I was enraptured by the act | |
| Of cracking her seamless shell | |
| Catching Esteban with hand in his till is muy facil | |
| But this girl' s skills are past the run of the mill | |
| We command with abandon the plot | |
| Take what he got | |
| Setting up shop with a cloud 8 view at the top | |
| And everybody' s got bones | |
| Hers are harder to spot | |
| With her appointments pinned down and her hair done up | |
| I devote everything that I' ve got | |
| To stalking this fox | |
| There' s got to be a fracture in her porcelain plot | |
| That' s where I slipped up | |
| Lost in her wash | |
| She doubled back upon her tracks and she caught me off guard | |
| She' s impossibly smart | |
| I am defeated at my own game | |
| Caught me collecting dirt | |
| To blackmail them for my own gain | |
| A tower made of dirt | |
| Is just a castle built from glass | |
| And a pocket full of stones until the last one' s cast | |
| Every now and then | |
| The best laid plans of mice and men | |
| Fall apart at hands | |
| Of unassuming champions | |
| Collecting so much dirt | |
| That I was buried down alive | |
| Slaving in this basement | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die | |
| Until the day I die |