The Mighty Have Fallen

We were talking and remarking
The mighty have fallen
They’re knocking 'em down
Open season
There’s just no pleasin'
It’s practically treason to win in this town
I never wanted to be
Part of their petite bourgeoisie
How low, how low, how low can you go?
Bad relations. Sad occasions
Unfriendly persuasion. «Just look at the time!»
False impressions. Endless questions
The least indiscretions are capital crime
Though you’re important to me
You don’t get open sesame
How low, how low, how low can you go?
But you’re no better than me
Don’t tell me how it’s meant to be
How low, how low, how low can you go?