Madame Guillotine 23

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Wyatt Riot

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The rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate
And the god that made us high and low bows to the fourth estate
The three lions on our shirt have slumbered too long in the sun
It's time to shake our chains to earth like dew for the judgement day has come

At school they told us stories of this land of hope and glory
Now the silver's all been sold off by a band of hopeless Tories
How is it we're still governed by cousins of the Queen
Perhaps it time to remind them all of Madame Guillotine

The skies all dark with bombers in a far off foreign part
Keep terror on the front page and fear in England's hearts
Refugees brought to their knees, now wash up on our shores
There's no money here to take them in but always plenty for waging war

At school they told us stories of this land of hope and glory
Now the silver's all been sold off by a band of hopeless Tories
They're lining their own pockets, They think we haven't seen
Perhaps it time to remind them all of Madame Guillotine

I'm loading my belongings into my chariot of fire
Whilst Jerusalem gets bulldozed and surrounded in barbed wire
I'm heading for the mountains green, for the clouded hills
Foreign investors buy shares and flats in the old satanic mills

At school they told us stories of this land of hope and glory
Now the silver's all been sold off by this band of hapless Tories
How is it we're still governed by cousins of the Queen
Perhaps it time to remind them all of Madame Guillotine

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