Overgrown Infants

I've been drawn back recently to the last Pink Floyd album with Roger Waters, "The Final Cut." I wonder why. It was timeless then and poigniant now. I plan to periodically post the lyrics to selected songs, and hopefully they'll make you think as much as they make me think. The first selection I'll post musically starts out with ballroom dancing music, violins.
As you read, you can easily be drawn back 20 years ago when it was written, and you can also easily replace the names to today and get the same effect. In fact, I think he was 20 years ahead of himself in many ways. This album was the final nail for Pink Floyd, as the rest of the boys were tired of this direction in their music. In my opinion it's a masterpiece. It shows the madness and brilliance of Roger Waters, flaming liberal that he is.
If memory serves me correctly, the Fletcher referred to is Roger Waters' maternal uncle who fought in WWII. I don't have the album jacket at my fingertips. I'm sure someone will correct me if I'm wrong.
There is a video for the song but I find it distracting from the lyrics. So I'll link it here if you're not familiar with the song.
The intro is called "Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert," which you won't hear on the video.

"Brezhnev took Afghanistan, Begin took Beirut, Galtieri took the Union Jack; and Maggie over lunch one day took a cruiser with all hands, apparently to make him give it back."

Now "The Fletcher Memorial Home:"

"Take all your overgrown infants away, somewhere, and build them a home, a little place of their own; the Fletcher Memorial Home For Incurable Tyrants and Kings. And they can appear to themselves every day on closed circuit TV, to make sure they're still real; it's the only connection they feel.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Reagan and Haig, Mr. Begin and friend, Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley, Mr. Brezhnev and party, the ghost of McCarthy, the memories of Nixon, and now adding colour a group of annonymous Latin American meat packing glitterati.' Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?
They can polish their medals and sharpen their smiles and amuse themselves playing games for awhile...boom, boom, bang, bang, lie down you're dead.
Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye, with their favourite toys; they'll be good girls and boys, in the Fletcher Memorial Home For Colonial Wasters of Life and limb.
Is everyone in? Are you having a nice time? 'Good time'. Now the final solution can be applied."

I hope that even if you don't agree with this in all its specificity, you'll agree with and appreciate its sentiment.
Final Cut Roger Waters Pink Floyd Fletcher Memorial Home