Tekster: Madness. Seven. Pac-a-mac.

I wear my cap with pride
When swaying side to side
Indoors where it be crude
Too late to find me shrewd

I never lay in doubt
When walking from about
At home where it be warm
You're sound asleep, I'm born

I'm a small chap, walk tall chap
When it rains cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac

Inside a rubber wall yelling
Screams echo off the ceiling
My love could penetrate
So I'll leave you now prostrate

My fag smolders out and out
And odors wafter about
So I give my head a kip
My caps worn to a split

I'm a small chap, walk tall chap
When it rains cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac

I wear my cap with pride
When swaying side to side
Indoors where I feel nude
Too late to find me shrewd

I never lay in doubt
When walking from about
At home where it be warm
You're sound asleep I'm born

I'm a small chap, walk tall chap
When it rains cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac

When it rains cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac
When it rains cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac