Title: Maggots 1 Maggie 0
Language: English
Composer: Attila the Stockbroker
Lyricist: Attila the Stockbroker
Performer: Attila the Stockbroker
- Lyrics -
Upturned faces of the poor
gazed at them in France of yore,
swinging in the gibbet cage
stark against the sky.
See the tyrants’ bones picked clean,
rulers once, now just cuisine!
For our little wriggly friend,
the larva of the fly.
Come that final glorious day,
treat that bastard the same way,
no pine box, no wreath of flowers,
with her safe inside.
Let’s give her a fitting fate,
string her up by Tyburn gate,
then get pissed and celebrate!
Party! Thatcher’s died!
Maggots 1, Maggie 0, 'allelujah!
All the folk that she forgot
sing and dance and watch her rot!
Homeless, hopeless, poor and ill
bid that cow adieu.
Arthur Scargill, lead the cheers
watch those printers sink their beers
"No such thing as society?"
No such thing as you!
Maggots 1, Maggie 0, 'allelujah!
What a party, what a giggle!
Sink some ale and watch 'em wriggle!
People all across the land
singing with one voice.
Never seen a crowd so vast,
ecstacy quite unsurpassed.
Maggie Thatcher's breathed her last!
Gotcha and rejoice!
Maggots 1, Maggie 0, 'allelujah!
- Lyrics -
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7 сен 2024
