歌词
It's the longest running joke in history
To kill the working classes in the name of liberty
The lies of Hillsborough, the blood of Orgreave
All the evasion at the BBC
30 years of war to darken all our class
Black propaganda, lies and mistrust
See it in our eyes, the fire dimming away
The old boy network won the war again
The old boy network won the war again
The old boy network won the war again
So you hide all Lowry's paintings
For thirty years or more
'Cause he turned down a knighthood
And you must now settle the score
And the endless parade of old, Etonian scum
Line the front benches, "So what is to be done?"
All part of the same establishment
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
These verses at attention stand
Ready for the immortal command
The armies of my pages may never fight again
Happy for the order to meet eternal fame
Blame the poor, praise the rich
Make the connections, put them in print
Keep 'em boxed in, keep 'em kettled in
Create a mistruth, so bewildering
Create a mistruth, so bewildering
Create a mistruth, so bewildering
So you hide all Lowry's paintings
For thirty years or more
'Cause he turned down a knighthood
And you must now settle the score
And the endless parade of old, Etonian scum
Line the front benches, "So what is to be done?"
All part of the same establishment
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
So you hide all Lowry's paintings
For thirty years or more
'Cause he turned down a knighthood
And you must now settle the score
And the endless parade of old, Etonian scum
Line the front benches, "So what is to be done?"
All part of the same establishment
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
I ask you again, "What is to be done?"
