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dizraeli - engurland (acapella) lyrics

[intro]
this is for um…saint george

[verse 1]
skin cancer costs an arm and a leg, man
people on the beach self+harming to get tanned
laid out flat like an army of dead man’s
red necks, red bellies, that expand and contract
like jellyfish on the wet sand
very engurlish, suncream and sweaty hands
mingled in with tepid lager, i’m on my seventh can
can i kick it? probably not very elegant
stepping over spaghetti bacardi breezer sick
chilli sauce on my packet of cheesy chips
silly thoughts, tell a stranger hе’s a pr+ck
receive a hit, lips and t++th arе split
but it in’t a party unless you bleed a bit
bit of a geezer, telling lisa she’s a fitty
grab her tits, and she’s throwing a seizure fit
now i’m sleeping in a cell
police are d+cks

[chorus]
singing engurland, mingerland, middle fingerland
footie song singerland
baddiel and skinner+land
school dinnerland
red, white, brown and gingerland
imperial hinterland
perpetual winterland
where happy pills are in demand
engurland, engurland
aren’t you proud?
[verse 2]
fair grey+green isle
home of kitchens, bathrooms, and loft conversions
bringer of basingstoke to the world
proud progenitor of staines
giver of birth to letchworth
and perhaps jerusalem was not builded here
but alton towers was
so ascent with me the giddy spires there
and feast your eyes on this here engurland
where families spend holidays in traffic jams
and radios play whack tracks by tragic bands
who have millions of avid fans, all of them little girls
who crave a glitzy soundtrack to their sh+tty world
where there’s poison in the food, and chlorine in the water
and models in the nude, in every shop, on every corner
and disorders of mind, and bulk orders of baked beans
‘cos here are three kids, and their mother, aged eighteen
and they dream of stardom, watching the x+factory
but they haven’t got a garden
so there’s nowhere to practice being
therefore, they question what they’re there for
and why there’s armed policemen outside mr blair’s door
then they reach their teens, and learn to count up to ten bensons
hiding behind hedges, burning p+b+scent tension
what’s progression? let the daily mail write your star chart
“this week you’ll lose your virginity in a carpark
next week, you’ll take your first ecstasy pill
nine pints of white lightning, and get messily ill
the week after that, perhaps you’ll get a job in lidl
you can stop believing, but you can’t stop the drizzle
you can stop believing, but you can’t stop the drizzle
stop believing+ you can’t stop the drizzle”
[chorus]
and we’re singing
engurland, mingerland, middle fingerland
footie song singerland
baddiel and skinner+land
school dinnerland
red white, brown and gingerland
imperial hinterland
perpetual winterland
where happy pills are in demand
engur+ stop clapping!
engurland, engurland, engurland
aren’t you proud?

- dizraeli lyrics

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