Fee fi fo fum
I smell the blood of Nazi scum
I want my dad and I want my mum
A Sherman tank and a load of guns
If love is the answer
What was the question?
And can it cure
My indigestion, baby?
Out of the frying pan
Into the frying pan
Back to the drawing board
And I'll draw you a diagram
We'll put on the kettle
For some tea and some sympathy
Infamy, infamy
They've all got it in for me
If love is the answer
What was the question?
And can it solve
The traffic congestion, baby?
Carry on, carry on
You've got nothing to lose
You've dirtied your pants
And you can't afford shoes
To stand up and fight
Stand up for your rights
And dance to the music
That nobody likes
It goes ba, ba, ba, ba
Out of the mouths
Of babes bearing arms
Come the terrified sounds
Of a baby's alarm
At the kidnap and rape
Of his family and friends
Who've been taken away
To be ethnically cleansed
And the banners and badges
And your anarchist friends
Say "Apocalypse now, man?
And "Never again"
And I know the following smut
Should he censored okay
But this shit is fucked
As they say in the U. S .A
And they say it in Mexico, London and Jericho
Berlin and Birmingham, Belfast and Tokyo
Amsterdam, Vietnam, Iran, Afghanistan
Disneyland, Narnia, former Yugoslavia
Yes sire boy, there's nothing worth living for
But it really ain't worth dying for
So just say three hail Jesus and Mary chains
And say goodnight Jim Bob, goodnight Jim Bob
Writer(s): James Neil Morrison, Leslie George Carter
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