UK Gothic

The shrubbery around your lawn
Is a front to your secret war
Waged in the neat living rooms
Of the cold prosaic suburbs.
Bastion of middle England
Bastard child of Thatcherism
I cannot forgive you for
What you’ve said and what you’ve done to us

There is a light I follow
There is a light I follow
And it is a violent love

And I plot to bring you down
I plot to bring you down.........

The love you give is too reserved
You traded in your youth and verve
To build a mighty empire
Of cake trolleys and graveled driveways
But before you build Jerusalem
Before you take your final breath
The pictures on your mantle piece
Will turn to dust and brick a brack

And I plot to bring you down
I plot to bring you down.........

There is a light I follow
There is a light I follow
And it is a violent love