Margaret Thatcher Y Fronts

 

Here come the “free speech” columnists
Making profit for their boss
Flexing their unsubtle wrists
Tossing off some right wing toss

In a national newspaper
You’ll hear their constant moan
Screaming out “Where’s our voice?”
Through a megaphone

‘Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a column
What a column, what a bloody laugh
Poor old souls, the middle mass
Blowing snide bombs out their arse
Shout loud, stamp yer feet
Saying you’re being silenced
What a creature, special feature
Always smug and always cunts
In their Margaret Thatcher Y Fronts

Watch that privilege
Have another few quid
Stick it in your Thatcher Y fronts

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