Downing Street Dogs


This ain’t taking back control, this is genocide

As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
You asked for the latest party

With your Benny Hill pose and Worzel Gummidge clothes
Like a burst couch you was
Downing Street freak you was

Crawling to the party on your hands and knees
I’m sure you’re not protected from any fucking disease
You’ll get away with murder hiding behind the christmas tree
Slobber and slime you go, underneath the mistletoe

I’ll keep the police serene
(Will they come?)
They wouldn’t dare make a scene
(Will they come?)
They’re not coming along

Come out into the rose garden, baby
We’ll have a cautious snog
Young girl, they call us the Downing Street Dogs
Young girl, they call us the Downing Street Dogs

Keep your head down


see also:

Reckless Bowie

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