A Dom In Downing Street


Well the veins stick out on his head
There is no marrow in his bones
Fear and hate linger in the air
A strictly no-go deadly zone
We all know what he’s doing here
With his stupid rugby ball
There’s a Dom in Downing Street
He’s called out his Army, he’s called out the police yeah

He’s blown up the west end, now he’s spreading throughout the city

A Phillistine nation of degradation
And hate and war. There must be more
It’s Dominique C-U-M-M-I-N-G-S
A crock of shit

from the album The Great Dominic Swindle


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