Land Of The Tyrants (feat. Zera Tønin)

This rose-tinted shampoo
Desert island dickheads who don't give a damn
About you or me or our fate
Yet, we're all just enemies of this pitiful fucking state
Just satellite town has-beens
Twitching at the fucking flat screen

Flat capped, whippetted, regionally voice-overed
Filling up the comments box, last of the summer whining
Meat-cheeked antiques
As we slither, humble and meek
No argument allowed, or heads bowed
Because we're all stereotypes up here

Feet up, pound shop, debts and fear
Stinking of football and beer
Because it's easier like that, I suppose
Just label the lot, then off you trot
Some demographic crack, box ticked on track
The hypocritical hoards, striking all the wrong chords
Best left to rot at the back
Sell by dated, nationally hated
Traditionally aggravated
We know this game, we know this game

Hail to the thief
Hail to the thief
In this land of the tyrants
Hail to the thief

So smash us down
As we can't escape
Until the ad break
This bastard north, this stone-faced shackle
And in the distance you hear that Etonian cackle
As we shout manically at the sky (uh), but don't ask why

No one's listening, no one's bothered
So tear our lives apart, we're useful to no one
Just statistics, not beating hearts
Yet you're victorious (you're victorious)
So tell me your typical bullshit (tell me your typical bullshit)
Feed me that pseudo fury
Grind in the lazy shame, and shift the blame again

Hail to the thief
Hail to the thief
In this land of the tyrants
Hail to the thief

Hail to the thief
Hail to the thief (hail to the thief)
In this land of the tyrants (in this land of the tyrants)
Hail to the thief (hail to the thief)
(Hail to the thief)
(Hail to the thief)
(Hail to the thief)