bobby moore
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left worth fighting for
there'll be a millionaire a week
3 million on the dole
a thousand points of light
shining in a hole
the green shoots
are coming up a treat
in the cracks of the pavements
on austerity street
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left worth fighting for
they're dying in the hospital corridors
while they're shovelling the shit on the commons floor
the third world for london and the fourth for the rest
where we condemn a little more and understand a little less
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left worth fighting for
they're begging in boxes by the house of lords
and the queen only pays what she wants to afford
where charles is a tampax and the rest of us are broke
and the royals on the mobile phones are nothing but a joke
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left to be fighting for
the e. m. forster films are just out of reach
dickie attenborough has made his very last speech
rupert brooke's clock is stuck at ten to three
the dambusters never make it home in time for tea
where crack stalks the shopping centres in a heroin haze
and nintendo kids jerk off while the tvs blaze
and liverpool mourns again
while unemployment is a price worth paying
and when england is dreaming it will always waken up
when bobby puts his carefully cleaned hands around the rim
the sacred rim
of the last thing they'll ever win
the 1966 world cup
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left to be fighting for
in the recession procession
won't you tell me what's true
this is the recession procession
and this one's especially for you
england died with bobby moore
and there's not a lot left worth fighting for
--
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