They are crowding the stage of these hallowed confines

Representing the parties

In here are enshrined the one hundred-odd figures of men

Wearing suits, who in sum

Constitute the assembly of the House of Mayors



Stacked in columns and rows

Dressed in period clothes

Here a Whig, there a pince-nez affixed to a nose

And the full complement's in attendance at the House of Mayors

(House of Mayors)

House of Mayors

(House of Mayors)

House of Mayors

(House of Mayors)

House of Mayors

(House of Mayors)

House of Mayors



And they're all up there, on the stage

And we're introduced to them all

And they're all still standing up there

When the last tour exits the hall

The effect is so real

That it's chilling to watch

As the creaking automatons all lurch

Into action, and act out historical deeds

And make speeches, sign legislation

And turn their heads and blink their eyes

Though the room has a faintly musty smell

You forget where you are, you are under their spell

And the spell that was cast was the ballot for the House of Mayors



George Finby!

Alexander Whigmore!

Patrick O'Barr!

Conrad Spectacle!

Carl Van Krieg!

Antonio Botton!



They are all still standing in there

In the dark in there, in the night

Similarity lurks under styles of moustache

These anemic, loyal, ???*

With a woman attending in fashion

In fashion; if some other face

Looked too much out of place

Would it spoil it for everyone else?



Some express disappointment when leaving the hall

Some feel cheated or mad--bear in mind, one and all

The next act of the show is an infinite row

Of unoccupied chairs, in a big room upstairs

In the House Of The Yet-To-Be Mayors