Coupons de foudre
I don't want the money, Barney,
I don't want the dosh
Give me a burned-out bacon sarnie
Give me some lemon squash
Stuff your pennies, stuff your pounds
Bring me beef baps, thirteen rounds
Never mind the fivers, tenners
Never mind the coppers
Give me vouchers for turkey dinners
And bottles without stoppers
When I come to the new job centre
Bring me gruel, call it polenta
When my body's starving
When I'm dried inside
Let's see you at the dole queue carving
Fresh Kentucky Fried
Do not tell me that you've no jobs
Fill our fingers, fill our gobs
Dear Mr. Iain Duncan Smith
Prepare a trough for my snout
Let the ones who have the With
Feed the ones Without
Fetch me a potato wedge
Or failing that, some surplus veg
Even Little Jack Horner
Denied his weekly sum
When the line's stretched round the corner
Needs a perforated plum
When a job's not what you've got
Bring me cup-a-soup, piping hot
The rich man in his castle
The poor man at his gate
Give me a food parcel *****mate
