David Byrne's Badside

He spits at the people when they're not his own Man, I thought we united, he says it's his home I'm not racist or tasteless, they're invasive, they're hateful At The Rose, the boys don't question his behaviour Yeah, football shirts tucked into tracksuits Counts as formal wear, not drug dealing casual Hard times 'round here, man, we gotta get through it Though it's perfectly fine when Tom or Paul do it We want it easy Keep it polite Don't wanna get on David Byrne's bad side Now he's afraid to go outside To feed the ducks, to unionise They keep on telling him "Just go back home" Homes Under the Hammer, well, it blares from the bar Until Daddy picks him up in his European sports car "A '19 plate?" Well, he muses who made it "Built in England," he wonders, "a Britishman's labour" Yet painful to watch as he watches The Chase As he hates all his neighbours, he praises his saviour Nige We want it easy Keep things polite Don't want to get on David Byrne's bad side No, no, no Now he's afraid to go outside To feed the ducks, to unionise They keep on telling him "Just go back home" He's told them all plenty of times He's from 'round here, they don't sympathise They keep on telling him "Just go back home" Yeah, yeah, yeah Woo Uh