To the bone

I’m a stranger in my own home,
And you are British to the bone,
A national treasure in red and white
Who wouldn’t love you?
Bald for the cause, par for the course,
You are what you eat; skin like sausage meat,
I hope we never have to meet,
And never is too soon

I’m not as weak as you think,
I’m not as weak as you think

So Oliver, the time has come for some decisions,
The time has come for some decisions.

You’ll find no identity with me
I’m not the sympathetic type
The wind has changed and your face stuck
And now we’re stuck with you.
It’s all too easy, far, far too easy
We are the writing on your wall,
And I’m next in line.

I’m not as weak as you think,
I’m not as weak as you think

So Oliver, the time has come for some decisions,
The time has come for some decisions.