London Stock Exchange, I dont know what day
I sometimes I dont know, but I dont care much anyway
I sit with my millionaire breakfast of crisps and Tizer
Listening to Whats This For? my earbuds on fire
I watch the suits in their intense pursuits
Huddled over their Apples with their takeaway boxes
Of posh sushi, a little reward for turning their backs
Earning more in a day than a nurse does in a year
Shuffling imaginary cash, creaming off a stash
They disgust me, these chancers and thieves.
Drinking champers at a charity bash
Theses tricksters, no better than hoodies selling hash.

Then there is Big Pauls drums in my head
He beats out Tension… and the Unspeakable
I have a secret world these fuckers really should fear.
I dont want what they worship………

I decide to move on, I’ve a way to go
I find myself in Leicester Sq, dont you know?
Tourists, children, pickpockets and the god squad
I have the Slits and Viv Albertine the she-God
The admirable quest for my countrys’ rich culture
is reduced to buying M&Ms by the scoop
Queuing for a bond film and the meat market disco on a loop
They could have done this in Bum-fuck Idaho
We havent moved on from the gin soaked boy
Whats the point of going anywhere and imposing shit?
Fuck off with your selfie and your sweatshop toy

Then there is Viv and Ari
Typical Girls and Still England
Oh Lord give me something to aspire to
Something to kill or forgive for.


Love Hate Loneliness and Laughter
The four corners of my apocalypse
Ive arrived at Parliament, the silver spoon of magma
Full of puppies from a dogma
I switch to Feeding the 5000
I kind of been saving it for this
I find a seat in the park and stare at the spires
A beautiful mothership, full of liars
You cant deny the beauty of the place
A giant gothic coffin complete with corpse
Where has my revolution gone? To corruption, of course.

And Ignorant tells me they Owe Us a Living
And Im full of rage, yet calm
My head is full of that rhythm and anger
The true sound of kindness over alarm.

I stroll through Green Park, seeing whats mine
Punk shuffling as my constant companion
I am near the end of my journey now
Buck House, Royalties bastion
I stand by the fountain and look at the gates - that balcony, it looks lonely
Free from free loading fuckers, waving to the plebs - Shes not my one and only
Where else does it matter that your born to status? Born to money and rule
My countrymen died for this shit to change - but still the fucking cesspool

And of course I have Lydon at full volume
Asking to save her although she’s no Human Being
I head for the tube flicking a V to the state of the nation
Welcoming the camaraderie of the Underground,
where my heart has always been.