In the split of the separateness
enjoyed by the desperate in
their loneliness,
where her highness looks down on them
are the men called the building blocks.
.
These are the men that roll with the knocks
the men who say, ******* to you.
The navvies,the chavs,the spivs,
they're the lads that raised up this nation,
the ones we owe a due to.

Whitehall wizards.

The chinless and spineless in black suits are mindless
and we gave them carte blanche,
brought down an avalanche on our heads,
these are the saintly who praise me,
lie to and patronise me,
politicians are slimy
they remind me
of worms,
they take like the snakes that they are
and no doubt they'll go far.

We only see them as He Men,because
we've been hypnotised by
the old school ties, which tell even
older lies
I despise them all.

***** Whitehall and the mandate
become the revolution before it's
too late.

Here in the split
I don't give a ****
they can all **** orf
and leave me alone.