| It’s not a pretty sight
|
| The lads are out tonight
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| They long to give their all
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| With backs against the wall
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| The game’s one-upmanship
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| Be sure they’ll let it rip
|
| We’ll have to have a go
|
| In our comedy horror show
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| It’s not a pantomime
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| In life one needs to climb
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| Things can only get much better
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| Bitter, better, butter, mutter
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| We are the bully boys
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| Move late at night, don’t make much noise
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| Up the stairs from the den
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| Followed by our Batmen
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| We’s are the chosen few
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| And we’s are coming through
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| And we knows just what to do
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| It’s Robbin' to the rescue
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| The Eton Boys are undefiled
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| The Bullingdon Boys, running wild
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| And England slides into the mist
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| No hope they’ll cease nor desist
|
| We are the chancers brigade
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| And we’ll have you flogged and flayed
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| Sadly no room left at the top
|
| Move along back to your sweatshops
|
| We’s are the chosen few
|
| And we’s are coming through
|
| And we knows just what to do
|
| It’s Robbin' to the rescue
|
| Well we worked our fingers to the bone
|
| It’s not as if we was alone
|
| There’s people needing to be paid
|
| And there’s booty, boys, to be made
|
| All hands on deck
|
| The Eton Boys are undefiled
|
| The Bullingdon Boys, running wild
|
| And England slides into the mist
|
| No hope they’ll cease nor desist
|
| They’re making England great again
|
| Make way for the bagmen
|
| And when everything’s been sold and bought
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| We’ll soon be off the life support
|
| This is an English public school
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| This is where Britain raised its empire
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| Rulers of yesterday
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| And still trains the leaders of tomorrow
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| They’re making England great again
|
| Make way for the bagmen
|
| And when everything’s been sold and bought
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| We’ll soon be off the life support |