And did those feet in Ancient Times, Walk upon England’s lower class? And did our forefathers of old, Tell them to get up off their arse? And did they try and pass the blame, For all of their society’s ills? And now we’re just the same, only worse, We've closed the dark satanic mills. Bring me Victorian values of old, Bring me inflation that is low. Bring me your cash, Oh! Business fold! But don’t bring me your tales of woe. I shall not turn from my great plan, No matter how insane it seems. Till we have built Jerusalem, And made it look like Milton Keynes!