I used to write on your tummy, I used to turn you on
But now it's all gone because you've been outdone.
You know you got me thinking, you're like a metaphor
For the good that is gone and all that is wrong in the world.
How do we sleep?
Lie back and think of England, I used to call her home
Until the News of the World hacked a missing schoolgirl's telephone.
I used to trust in Parliament but I'd soon wind it up
And on Wembley's big screen I'd show all our MPs how we feel
About how they spent our money on some porn and a duckhouse.
How do they sleep?
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