Lyrics Familus Horribilus - Pop Will Eat Itself

Familus Horribilus

Kicking at the gates like I’m an urban guerrilla
And going for the victory like the Thrilla in Manila
We’re a nation of shoplifters, we’re druggies, petty crooks
This has to be our style, we haven’t horsey looks
It’ll be funky
It’ll be funky, yeah
It’ll be funky
Queenie’s feeling meanie, and we’ve seen her get her cash taxed
Can’t hear the jeers, they fear she needs her ears waxed
Chuckie’s riding bareback, but only playing polo
It’s no-go with the misses, and now he’s going solo
Charlie’s lost his marlies, he used to be a pillar
Before he got busted and lusted for Camilla
Squidgy getting fidgety at home, all alone
And Gilbey, we know he’ll be shortly answering the phone
The family, the family
The family horribilus
The family, the family
The suitors are all looters and they’re closing in on Fergie
Their game was fame, but now they’ve got the lurgy
The family’s expandin' and everyone’s a stand-in
A palace full of malice as everybody’s crammed in
As Lizzie’s getting older, over shoulder, there’s a rival
Dizzy Di is busy sowing the seeds of survival
You wanna sow some seeds?
Well, get on your tractor
And get Eddie out of bed or he’ll never make an actor
It’ll be funky
It’ll be funky, yeah
It’ll be funky
The royals are spreading like boils, it does your head in
We have no choice, we’re invoiced for the weddings
It’s like a soap, a Dallas or a Dynasty
We live in hope to put 'em out their misery
Fire the freaky family, we’re tired of the cheek
As you holiday your life away, our futures look bleak
As your castle’s burning down, you want the people to pay for it
Ask us to defend you, we’ve got nothing to say for it
The family, the family
The family horribilus
The family, the family
Kicking at the gates like we think we’re on the guest list
We’re told to wait, too late, we’re getting restless
The crowd is swellin' as they’re smellin' the thrill
There’s dancing in the rubble and there’s trouble at the mill
There’s warning of the storming, news of the resistance
The peasants are revolting, advancing from the distance
There’s panic and there’s anarchy and breaking the rules
They’re making fake money and they’re taking the jewels
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
All without a fuss, the coup has been victorious
The banners wave, proclaiming annus glorious
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
What will it be?
Funky!
It’ll be funky
It’ll be funky, yeah
It’ll be funky
It’ll be funky, yeah