DESCRIPTION:
Walk down Church street 6am, through the park then home again, all is quiet but all's not well, seems old stokey went to hell.
The pushy mums push me aside, cannot swim against their moneys tide,
The darling buds of N16, the property developers wet dream
Don't think i can stay
I don't make the grade
Your public school crusade.
Where's Our Graham? Sadly gone, Juno too and 'Scouse and Jon, Mick and Bishop and in their pace, health food nazis, £10 a plate.
Don't think I can stay
I don't make the grade
your public school crusade.
Buy a studio, half a mil?
Purge the streets of poor and ill
Sip your latte in Clissold Park
Barricade your home when it gets dark
Read the Hate Mail look aghast,
raise our rents then raise your glass
Toast the stench of your success
You're ok so fuck the rest.
Don't think i could stay
I don't earn the pay
Your public school crusade
Down on Church Street 10pm
Boony's in the pub again
The hate parade escaped the zoo
You don't see me, but I see YOU.