One Man's England - Paul Heaton, Jacqui Abbott

I was six when they came in to my uncle’s shop

And the 'put put put' just wouldn’t stop

But I felt too small to fight them all

We were sat out on the steps drinking lemonade

And the 'GO HOME' graffiti had begun to fade

And I had grown to almost 6 feet tall

When their lager soaked breath just marched on past

Coupling German 'sieg heil' with their Union Jacks

That’s one arranged marriage, you’d have to agree

The real arranged marriage affecting this town

Is the white who’d beat his daughter for marrying a brown

That’s one arranged marriage the media don’t see

One man’s last orders

Is another man’s last round bell

Making one man’s England

Another man’s hell

East vs. West will always land in England’s lap

From the banning of the burqa

By the fool in baseball cap

Well, the white man’s wheeling and dealing

Whilst the black man’s simply dealing

Hypocrisy pours from the cracks in the floor

To the gaps that appear in the ceiling

They say, 'Jamaicans are laid back and lazy'

'West Indies is full of damn crazies'

But Usain laid back is quicker on track

Than white man in latest Mercedes

Immigration cheat, welfare scrounger

Ain’t the real fraud

It’s that meeting with accountant

To move their cash abroad

The real criminal ain’t living

In a run down council flat

He’s residing on a beach somewhere

Panama cigar and hat

The real terrorist ain’t sporting a beard

Or reading the Quran

He’s sitting in 10 Downing Street

And he works for Uncle Sam