They are coming - the whole bunch
They are shouting – and not many of us
They are hitting – have to run away
Their rage is heard in the distance
The steel barrier is breaking now
Water cannons are spouting now
Bangers’ rumble assaults the ear
The fear has appeased the greed

Chorus:
The pickaxe’s handle in a hand of the miner
There’s no place for liars
There’s no place for avoids
We can’t load onto
the hole in the budget
Want things to be better
that people are not scum

The stamp of - heavy boots
appeased – raving of stars
And talking heads
broke off – silent fear
Someone found out the simplest truth
of all of the truths
That there’s only one so foolproof way

And the miner watches and sees what he wants
The street is quiet and dies of shame