And Nero played his fiddle like a bowman in the heat of battle
Faster than a fever
And he paid no heed to Standards, he moved against the flow
Like a salmon in a river
And those who were carried along by his flowing notes
Followed him all over
For Nero had the lust and the passion for promotion
Coursing through his fingers
Sorry VT, my sense of humour. With apologies to the late Davy Steele.