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