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[Verse 1] Good sir, thy counsel I decline Thy wisdom reeks of sour wine Thou strutteth about with puffed-up chest Yet speak’st as one forever vexed Thy thoughts arrive half-baked, half-born Like broken trumpets poorly blown And still thou preacheth from lofty perch As if thou built this very church [Pre-Chorus] Pray tell, dost thou not tire Of sounding like a village crier? [Chorus] Ingesteth thou, an entire satchel of richards Bundle them neatly and swallow them quick For thy grand proclamations grow weary and witless And patience runs thin at thy nonsense so thick Ingesteth thou a satchel of richards Seasoned with pride with a garnish of shame For thou art most certain, yet rarely coherent And loudly incorrect all the same [Verse 2] Thou poundest thy fist upon the air Declaring truths most light and bare Yet facts, like ghosts, avoid thy grip And reason slips from off thy lip The crowd grows faint from rolling eyes Whilst thou performeth thy grand disguise Of scholar, sage and man of might Who cannot spell “perspective” right [Pre-Chorus] Oh noble fool of endless sound Dost thou not see thou’rt jester-bound? [Chorus] Ingesteth thou, an entire satchel of richards Gather them boldly and feast with delight For thy declarations are tragically hollow Yet delivered with theatrical might Ingesteth thou a satchel of richards Let hubris be thy chosen fare If volume be thy only virtue Then chew it well — and kindly spare [Bridge – dramatic spoken break] Hark! A mirror! Approach it slowly, brave one. Gaze upon the source of thy confusion… Ah. There it is. [Final Chorus – crowd chant version] Ingesteth thou! Ingesteth thou! An entire satchel of richards! Ingesteth thou! Ingesteth thou! And trouble us no more! [Outro – smug lute strum] Thus ends the sermon. Kindly exit stage left.