I saw a newspaper picture from the political 
campaign 
woman was kissing a child, who was obviously 
in pain 
She spills [bad word]  as that young child's 
face in her hands she grips 
Can you imagine all that greed and avarice [bad word] down on that child's lips 
Well I hope I don't die too soon 
I pray the Lord my soul to save 
Oh I'll be a good boy, I'm trying so hard to behave 
Because there's one thing I know, I'd like to live 
long enough to savour 
That's when they finally put you in the ground 
I'll stand on your grave and tramp the dirt down 

When England was the [bad word] of the world 
Margeret [sic] was her madam 
And the future looked as bright and as clear as 
the black tarmacadam 
Well I hope that she sleeps well at night, isn't 
haunted by every tiny detail 
'Cos when she held that lovely face in her hands 
all she thought of was betrayal 

And now the cynical ones say that it all ends 
the same in the [bad word] 
Try telling that to the desperate father who just 
squeezed the life from his only son 
And how it's only voices in your head and 
dreams you never dreamt 
Try telling him the subtle difference between 
justice and contempt 
Try telling me she isn't angry with this pitiful 
discontent 
When they flaunt it in your face as you line up 
for punishment 
And then expect you to say "Thank you" 
straighten up, look proud and pleased 
Because you've only got the symptoms, you 
haven't got the whole disease 
Just like a schoolboy, whose head's like a tin-can 
filled up with dreams then poured down 
the drain 
Try telling that to the boys on both sides, being 
blown to bits or beaten and maimed 
Who takes all the glory and none of the shame 

Well I hope you live long now, I pray the Lord 
your soul to keep 
I think I'll be going before we fold our arms 
and start to weep 
I never thought for a moment that human life 
could be so cheap 
'Cos when they finally put you in the ground 
They'll stand there laughing and tramp the 
dirt down