Four and twenty crowbars, jemmy your desire
Out of the frying pan into the fire
The king is in the counting house
Some folk have all the luck
And all we get are pictures of LORD AND LADY MUCK
They come from lovely people with a hard line in hypocrisy
THERE ARE ASHTRAYS OF EMOTION FOR THE FAG ENDS OF THE ARISTOCRACY
The sugar coated pill is getting bitterer still
YOU THINK YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU BUT YOU KNOW IT NEVER WILL
So pack up your troubles in a stolen handbag
DON'T DILLY DALLY BOYS RALLY ROUND THE FLAG
Give us your daily bread in individual slices
And something in the daily rag to cancel any crisis