Lyrics

Manicured lawns and barking dogs
garbage bins neatly in a row
trim the rosebush, wash the car
keep your soul locked in a jar

Patrol vans cruising on the beat
Mark sleeping cars in deserted streets
keep your dope stashed in a jar
we already know who you are

Behind closed doors
TV dinner, watch the latest wars
A radio pukes the dregs of rock and roll
Facebook is rife with Nigerian trolls

Home sweet home
Repaint your garden gnome
Peel these tattoos from my soul
So I can finally jump parole

They all said I looked smart
But I was really falling apart

I know I look like a brat
When I wear Bob’s leopardskin pillbox hat
I walk by myself, I talk to myself
I am the king of the castle
the king of the castle
Yes I am

When you burn my boat, I swim
While you take Rome, I take Berlin
When your TV channels hem me in
I reach out for my mandolin

I can be blunt if I choose to
Don’t need no metaphor
I’ll draw up my bridges
Dig a moat at my front door
I am the king of the castle
the king of the castle
Yes I am