Agent Management

1, 2, we're rolling, go ahead Mr. private eye

G'day, I'm glad you're all here to hear my story
Imagine this
It was just a regular day and I was just a regular guy
A spy though
I died once, or maybe I died twice
But now my life is all pride and glory

I'm a private eye, well-to-do, -thought-of, quite well-worn too
But that's pretty darn good for being a memento mori

Mmm, mmm yeah

You see
I'm this agent, bad-ass
Ooh, and I love jazz
Lying on a pavement they found me by the Jazz Club
Where I couldn't finish my last cup

(Hey, this fellow has the looks for a spy!)
And they wouldn't care if I happened to die

Now in these alleys I hide
Inside the doubt and its shadow
To find the slyly disguised
Allied with the mastermind (Goodbye)

He looks like an agent
He walks like an agent
He talks like an agent
He smells like the agent in laundry detergent
Exploding the dirt off your suit
Ooh, that suit is so shiny and smooth
Buy three, and get one for free
Your neighbour agrees, this one is good!

He looks like an agent
He certainly walks like an agent
He talks like an agent
He seems like an agent who's jaunty and patient
Those flames deep in his eyes
Prove the fact that the Regime denies
Agents are made out of wood
And that ain't a lie, to tell you the truth

Did-n-die, dee-die, did-n-die, dee-did-n-die
Did-n-die, dee-die, did-n-die, wee-did-n-die
Did-n-die, did-n-die, did-n-die, did-n-die
Dee-did-n-die, dee-dee-did-n-die
Dee-dee-dee-dee, dee-dee, did-n-dud-n-die

He looks like an agent (Dee-dee-dee, dee-dee, did-du-du-du-du)
He walks like an agent (Dee-dee-dee, dee-dee, did-du-du-du-du)
He talks like an agent (Dee-dee-dee, dee-dee, did-du-du-du-du)
He cooks like an agent, so seasoned and cheap (Du-du-du)
When rest of the town is asleep
He is taking the form of a sheep
And blends in the shadows and dust
Where alleys are dark and flashlight is a must

So that's me in brief
Used to make me grief how they stole my own will
But perhaps this is better than lying on the pavement still

I probably would've tried to find a way out, if I had known better
The day was coming near and I hadn't even prepared a letter

"Dear mother, now that I'm gone
Go on to read this letter
It's time I told you that I'm your son
And I wonder whether
We could've had one chance
Some time to spend together
I give you all that was mine
My fine old agent sweater"