RIFF
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verse 1
They re out of sorts in Sunderland
And terribly cross in Kent,
They re dull in Hull
And the Isle of Mull
Is seething with discontent,
They re nervous in Northumberland
And Devon is down the drain,
They re filled with wrath
On the firth of Forth
And sullen on Salisbury Plain,
In Dublin they re depressed, lads,
Maybe because they re Celts
For Drake is going West, lads,
And so is everyone else.
Hurray, hurray, hurray!
RIFF - strum once
Misery s here to stay.
verse 2
From Portland Bill to Scarborough
They re querulous and subdued
And Shropshire lads
Have behaved like cads
From Berwick-on-Tweed to Bude,
They re mad at Market Harborough
And livid at Leigh-on-Sea,
In Tunbridge Wells
You can hear the yells
Of woe-begone bourgeoisie.
We all get bitched about, lads,
Whoever our vote elects,
We know we re up the spout, lads.
And that s what England expects.
Hurray, hurray, hurray!
RIFF - strum once
Trouble is on the way.
verse 3
p.m.
From Colwyn Bay to Kettering
They re sobbing themselves to sleep,
The shrieks and wails
In the Yorkshire dales
Have even depressed the sheep.
In rather vulgar lettering
A very disgruntled group
Have posted bills
On the Cotswold Hills
- back to open strum
To prove that we re in the soup.
While begging Kipling s pardon
There s one thing we know for sure
If England is a garden
We ought to have more manure.
Hurray, hurray, hurray!
RIFF - strum once
Suffering and dismay.