De schuld van 't kapitaal

'Twas a kid of eighteen years,
Still green, but built like a tank
He became a gardener near Laren
And that left him feeling blank

Chorus:
People, don’t call each other wimps
Once you sing, you all will see,
All together the same old hymns:
It’s the blame of capital

The lady whose grass he mowed
Called him in for some tea,
While she stroked his curls and glowed,
At first, it didn’t mean much to me

Chorus

She seduced him in the shed
By the hoe and the shears
And soon for just one more hour
He had to go to her lair

Chorus

And right away he was taken,
Did what she wanted him to do
From the garden, he was forsaken,
There was so much more from her view

And he lost his mind so quick
That he wouldn’t cut the grass
When he worked, it was inside,
And there was no green to pass

Chorus

Then one morning he discovered
That the baker and the post
Delivered many times at night
And he was getting tossed

Chorus

And so after this lady
The big city made him small,
How does a skilled gardener
Find work at the Leidseplein at all?

The water from the canal was calling,
A sad end seemed to be near,
When he was suddenly pulled away
By a pacifist who said:

Chorus

So he walks, just eighteen years
With a cocky look on his face,
By a villa near Laren
With a sign that says:

Chorus