Ban it from the streets of London
Barcelona, Santiago, Hong Kong
I wonder to myself
Will life ever be sane again
After another general election
I wonder to myself
What hope for the Brexiteers
Are gammon and pineapple safe here
What do the papers say?
Will they love me today?
No, they’re murdering meat and me now
Don’t they know I’m a sacred cow
I wonder to myself

Burn down the media
Fuck the blessed Guardian
Because their columnists constantly
Say nothing to me about my life
Fuck the blessed Guardian
Because the columnists they constantly
Just slag me off when they can now
In the provincial towns that I gig ’round
Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian
Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian
Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian, Fuck The Guardian

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