When I
get back to
Blighty I'm gonna kiss that shore
Cause the further that I sail from
thee I only love thee more
When I get back to
Blighty, I may actually love you less
Cause you may be, cause you may be pointin'
a little too far west
Bus driver ain't smokin' or
swiggin' from black can
Whilst he was texting,
he nearly killed a man
Bust you on
Twitter about the near miss
And the rag and bone man's
wearing high veils
And the rag and bone man's
wearing high veils
See the spirit of old
Blighty
Ain't makin' deals on phone
It's takin' in a backstreet pub
Till twelve midnight alone
The real
Clint
Eastwood
The real
Lee
Van
Cleef
Ended up in a bar and pub
Minus all of their teeth
When I get back to
Blighty, I'll be sure to kiss that coast
Cause of all the rotten places,
I miss this ride the most
When I get back to
Blighty, I won't salute your queen
I'll salute the real people,
the history they've seen
The phone ain't workin' and
the bus shall be smashed
And all the helper
Harry's are pleadin' for your cash
Now the shark and dog have
been replaced by mash
Oh, this country is out on the lash
This country is out on the lash
See the spirit of old
Blighty
Ain't makin' deals on phone
It's drinkin' in a backstreet pub
Till twelve at night alone
The real
Clint
Eastwood
The real
Lee
Van
Cleef
Ended up in a bar and hug
Minus all of their tears
It's 11 a .m.
It's blue upon blue in the sky
But everyone around agrees
Oh,
Phil
Collins,
Phil
Collins must die
A white t -shirt and faded jeans
Just, just an ordinary guy
But prisoner to his tax returns
Oh,
Phil
Collins,
Phil
Collins
He must die, oh, he must die, oh yeah
Oo h, oh, oh, oh, oh
He must die, ooh, yeah
Phil
Collins must die, he must die,
oh yeah
Woah, woah, yeah, die
Ooh, ooh, woah, woah