"Three four five" "Three four five, Sir" "Steady as she goes" "Steady as she goes, Sir" "??" "(Instrumental)
Take one policeman whose job is tough Investigating a cover-up Looks to his colleagues for support Gets accused of nothing has to leave the force Not
We blasted Glasgow Invaded France Assaulted Sweden Took down our pants And lovely England My little kitten Deliriously Black widow Bitten For Britain
Hello anger its me I've been calling almost an hour I left a message on your machine Yeah, well I guess you're out Heard a black guy got killed today
she wrote" Him have his hand in the till Blairful of thatcher Stuck on the 45 The suits have changed But the old ties survive New britannia cool
Jock's got a vote in parochial Ten long years and he's still got her Paying tax and and doing stir Worry about it later And the wind blows hot and the
the state of things over here it's shit Primark to them prats is bloody upmarket chorus (X2): We don't care what you say Rule Britannia, Britannia rules
Another day begins And there you are The mother sways her shins Here comes the footstep of the man who'll make your dreams The tube is fitted in And there
Intrumental only
I'm the boss of the BBC I'm the monkey at the top of the media tree Your version of the riots in Cape Town Comes second-hand from me Chewing and spewing
This is Breadline Britain This free and promised land Where the rich don't give a damn People getting hungry and people getting poor People getting destitute
When I was young, I used to be, As fine a man as ever you'd see, 'til the Prince of Wales, he said to me, Come and join the British army. Too-ra loo-
Leaving at dawn to beat the traffic, do you remember that too? Curled asleep on the back seat, do you remember that too? The soundless dark, the empty
British people in hot weather British people in hot weather British people in hot weather British people in hot weather Fill green envelopes and send
Poor Britannia, drowning in your waves With the body of the unknown soldier and the best of the brave I have known you ever since I was a child How come
I say it's not my fault As I run and hide behind the walls that I have made To keep you out Can you see me? Can you hear me? I'm crying, I'm dying, I'
Mr. Banks: A British bank is run with precision A British home requires nothing less! Tradition, discipline, and rules must be the tools Without them
Hatred in the hearts of the young population Riots in the streets of the "civilised" nation Was it the poverty? Was it the police? No - it's the British