Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty's forces are coming Fuck off to the Falklands for your sea-faring fun Big man's jerk off dreamland, looking down the barrel of a gun Friggin in the riggin another imperialist farce Another page of British history to wipe the national arse The royals donated Prince Andrew as a show of their support Was it just luck the only ship that wasn't struck Was the one on which he fought? Three cheers for good old Andy, let's take a pic for his mum And stick it up the royal, stick it up the royal Stick it up the royal album Sheep farming in the Falklands, re-arming in the fucklands Fucking sheep in the homelands, her majesty's forces are coming Onward Thatcher's soldiers, it's your job to fight "And, You know, I don't really give a toss If the cause is wrong or right, my political neck means more to me Than the lives of a thousand men, if I felt it might be of use to me I'd do it all over again. The Falklands was really a coverup job It obscured the mistakes I've made, and, you know I think the gamble I took certainly be said to have paid With unemployment at an all-time high and the country falling apart I, Winston Thatcher, reign supreme in this great nations' heart" While the men who fought her battles are still expected to suffer Thatcher proves in parliament that she's just a fucking nutter The iron lady's proved her metal, has struck with her fist of steel Has proved that a heart that is made out of lead Is a heart that doesn't feel Now Thatcher says "Oh raunchy Ron, we've fought our war Now it's your turn to prove yourself in El Salvador I've employed Michael Heseltine to deal with P.R. He's an absolute prick, but a media star He'll advocate the wisdom of our cruise missile plan Then at last I'll have a penis just like every other man They can call it penis envy, but they'll pay the price for it But the peasants are hungry Mags Let them eat shit" Who the fuck cares, we're all having fun? Mums and dads happy as their kids play with guns The media loved it, when all's said and done 'Britain's bulldog's off the leash' said the Sun As the Argies and Brits got crippled or died The bulldog turned around and crapped in our eyes. Brit wit, hypocrite, don't you yet realise You're not playing with toys, you're playing with lives You piss straight up in your self-righteous rage Wilfs, goms and gimps in the nuclear age Four minute warning, what a shock, well balls to you rocket cock You're old and you're ill and you're soon going to die You've got nothing to lose as you fill up the skies You'd take us all with you, yeah, it's tough at the top You slop bucket, shit filled, puss ridden, death pimp snot YAH FUCK