The bomb’s in the china. the fat’s in the fire
There’s no turkey left on the table
The commuter’s return on the six o’clock flyer
Brings no bale of hay for the stable
Well, the light, it is failing along the green belt
As we follow the hard road signs
Semi-detached in our suburban-ness
We’re living in these hard times
Well the fly’s in the milk and the cat’s in the stew
Another bun in the oven, oh, what to do?
We’ll laugh and we’ll sing and try to bring
A pound from your pocket
Good day to you
Oh, these hard times
The politicians sat on the wall
And traded with the union game
Someone slapped a writ on our deficit
Not a penny left to our name
Oh, the times are hard and the credits lean
And they toss and they turn in sleep
And the line they take is the line they make
But it’s not the line they keep
The cow jumped over yesterday’s moon
And the lock ran away with the key
You know what you like, and you like what you know
But there is no jam for tea
Well the light it is failing along the green belt
As we follow the hard road signs
Semi-detached in our suburban-ness
We’re living in these hard times
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