The streets are dark
The streets are glum
They're paved with Wriggleys chewing gum
The gold they held is all mined out
The 'wanker bankers' have lost their clout
They started a business that could never have lasted
They've screwed it up the greedy bastards
They got their hedge funds properly trimmed......
They never saved for stormy weather
They drank Champagne……….........…whatever
The future for them is far from skint
The government will fork out a mint
The problem is that public money keeps these villains in milk and honey
They manufacture nothing 'cept misery for the masses
They cover their mistakes with money from our taxes
What about the working man
Works his arse off while he can
Wants a decent retirement pension plan
Willingly gives his pound of flesh
Whitehall brings his early death
It's hard to feel sorry for the suits that blew the loot
It's difficult to resist putting in the verbal boot
It's hard to be optimistic in Englands capital town
It's not easy being shafted by the friends of Mr Brown
Is he a modern day Dick Turpin or a monetary clown?
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