Anyway a holidays nice but it is just that and not a way of life, and although we had a magnificent and fabulous run in the sun it is also good to be back home in dear old blighty.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, this earth of majesty, this seat of Mars. This other Eden demi paradise
Unfortunately the version on Spitting Image many years ago is more what we have ended up with...
And did those feet in Ancient Times,
Walk upon England’s lower class?
And did our forefathers of old,
Tell them to get up off their arse?
And did they try and pass the blame,
For all of their society’s ills?
And now we’re just the same, only worse,
We've closed the dark satanic mills.
(Ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!)
Bring me Victorian values of old,
Bring me inflation that is low.
Bring me your cash,
Oh! Business fold!
But don’t bring me your tales of woe.
I shall not turn from my great plan,
No matter how insane it seems.
Till we have built Jerusalem,
And made it look like Milton Keynes!