[ Featuring The Last Skeptik ]
Another late night and I'm in
Move through the street, I'm a sinner
Talk to myself so I fit in the skin of the victim I'm in, yeah
Broken Britain, shadow of a streetlight flickerin'
Street fights liftin' the ice off the cars
I see myself in them, see it's quite fittin'
We all the same, licking off shots, we all in pain
Licking off salt from the shop 'cause there ain't no job
To the rich man, it's all a game, yeah
It's all a shame, Brexit Britain, we all the same
Won't have water, cops here slaughter
Doing what we oughta 'cause we're all insane
The Tory next door got more money than you've got
And he wants you on the floor at the food bank poor
Begging for more
Trying to make ends meet
And the scum at the top don't keep the receipt for the lies and deceit
It's an ecosystem, ego victims
Let towers burn with the people in them
Evils in them, I try and go sleep but my dreams got demons in them
Lethal Killings, a world full of pain and deceitful villains
The real world's no better seek the ceiling
Face defeat, sit down or teach the children
Stand for the truth and lead the willin'
Just stay alive and complete the missions, yeah
I won't walk with my hand out
I won't talk, I won't stand down
They'll do anything to stamp out
Clap on the cuffs, chokehold see a man down
Clap if he sneaks, anger the streets trapped in the passenger seat (yeah)
May as well stand for defeat
Stamp on his feet and I see another man down
Remember Woolworths? Remember Safeways?
Remember national front outside a Quick Save?
Remember blocks on my estate with piss stains
We've revolted straight into history
I don't even understand the surprise
Drifting apart for a hundred seasons
Head of state is blessed under the hungry eaten
Head of government says that getting monies, free them
They wanna bring Jim Davidson back, jog on
They incite problems then act like all of a sudden
Why's everyone talkin' about cultural Marxism and postmodern society?
Acting like fans of crusades and pogroms
Fascists, straight up
I'm not rhyming this part
Bismarck's, Mountbatten's, Sax-Coburg and Gotha's, get rid of 'em
People think justice is a swing
That you lose if I win
But I'm looking at this stack of losses
It's in fact, colossus
But the lack of black bosses
And the lack of a lack of bosses
We're trapped moving back when it's that acknowledged
I'm sinking but why?
Ain't be thinking to try
I'm on the brink of a diet
Wake up green having no bacon fry
I'm lost divinity
Lost track of who's the proper villain
I hope it's him
Pray for the children of broken Britain
Little Britain's doing okay, yeah
Little Britain's doing
Little Britain's doing okay, yeah
Little Britain's doing
Little Britain's doing okay, yeah
Little Britain's doing
Little Britain's doing okay, yeah
Little Britain's doing
