Honest,
This city is a melting pot,
But the food has begun to rot,
As no one can afford to eat.
Honest,
This city is a picture book,
It costs an arm and a leg to look,
So leave your limbs in limbo please.
Dying by the living wage,
Trying to repress my rage,
London is the place I love, the place I love,
I love to hate.
Honest,
This city runs on laughing gas,
With electricity from France,
Powering the hate machine.
Honest,
This city is under attack,
By smog and smug bureaucrats.
Dying by the living wage,
Trying to repress my rage,
London is the place I love, the place I love,
I love to hate.