Go South

The man of the moment is the idol of the Left
He prophesises torment and the Country’s Rising Debt

The Telegraph goes psychopath at the mention of his name
The Morning Star won’t go too far and hides its head in shame

Chorus:

Stop putting words into my mouth
There’s no room for anymore
I’ll take a plane and I’ll go down South
To lose myself in someone else’s war

Forward with Britain! Forward with the scum
The last bit of enlightenment is on the front page of the Sun

Every picture tells a story and the ink dirties your hand
The Man’s moment of glory will be echoed through the land


Chorus:

Stop putting words into my mouth
There’s no room for anymore
I’ll take a plane and I’ll go down South
To lose myself in someone else’s war

War in Southern Africa, war I the Middle East
The writers and photographers go like vampires to the feast

Cameras click, typewriters record every soldiers dying groan
To remind the Reading hordes how good it is to be at home

Chorus:

Stop putting words into my mouth
There’s no room for anymore
I’ll take a plane and I’ll go down South
To lose myself in someone else’s war