They are crowding the stage of these hallowed confines Representing the parties In here are enshrined the one hundred-odd figures of men Wearing suits, who in sum Constitute the assembly of the House of Mayors Stacked in columns and rows Dressed in period clothes Here a Whig, there a pince-nez affixed to a nose And the full complement's in attendance at the House of Mayors (House of Mayors) House of Mayors (House of Mayors) House of Mayors (House of Mayors) House of Mayors (House of Mayors) House of Mayors And they're all up there, on the stage And we're introduced to them all And they're all still standing up there When the last tour exits the hall The effect is so real That it's chilling to watch As the creaking automatons all lurch Into action, and act out historical deeds And make speeches, sign legislation And turn their heads and blink their eyes Though the room has a faintly musty smell You forget where you are, you are under their spell And the spell that was cast was the ballot for the House of Mayors George Finby! Alexander Whigmore! Patrick O'Barr! Conrad Spectacle! Carl Van Krieg! Antonio Botton! They are all still standing in there In the dark in there, in the night Similarity lurks under styles of moustache These anemic, loyal, ???* With a woman attending in fashion In fashion; if some other face Looked too much out of place Would it spoil it for everyone else? Some express disappointment when leaving the hall Some feel cheated or mad--bear in mind, one and all The next act of the show is an infinite row Of unoccupied chairs, in a big room upstairs In the House Of The Yet-To-Be Mayors