The man on the hill

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Round after round,
Alone on a hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a brit,
And he never gives an answer,

But the man on the hill,
Sees the clock ticking down,
And the jars of his pee,
Show the spy running 'round.

Well on the way,
Cart on a hill,
The man of a thousand bullets flying perfectly true
But nobody ever sees him,
or the kill he appears to make,
and he never seems to notice,

But the man on the hill,
Sees the clock ticking down,
And the jars of his pee,
Show the spy running 'round.

And nobody seems to like him,
they can tell what he wants to do,
and he never shows his feelings,

But the man on the hill,
Sees the clock ticking down,
And the jars of his pee,
Show the spy running 'round.

Ooh, ooh,
Round and round and round.

And he never listens to them,
He knows that they're the spies
They don't like him,

But the man on the hill,
Sees the clock ticking down,
And the jars of his pee,
Show the spy running 'round.

Ooh,
Round and round and round