
Bairns not Bombs the people cry, as destroying the world puts a glint in Jim’s eye.
How much we ask, to sell your soul?
How much for a weapon we don’t even control?
A whip of a lass with a helmet of gold, she’ll conquer you all with the sword that she holds.
Speaking the truth to the heart of a nation, no wonder she’s receiving standing ovations.
No more austerity and no more dodgy deals, it’s time now for things to get real.
We’ll cut through the crap and get to the nitty gritty and we’ll do it all while being optimistic and witty.
Without a chance you’ll try to compete with the answers pre-printed on your wee sheets.
The game’s a bogey, it’s far too late, so do me a favour and ditch the Bru crate.
Choose wisely who’s counsel you keep, because the people of Scotland are no longer asleep.
A three pronged weapon of mass destruction, don’t you know the new Earth’s under construction?
One built on love not fear and control, one where we value every single soul.
End Trident you mad-man, it’s the only sane decision.
End Trident and join the people with vision.
End Trident and earn the title leader, or be forever remembered as a death seeder.
The party’s over, it’s time to go home. Time to face the shadows when you’re all alone.
You sold out your people for the price of ambition when a much better choice would have been simply to listen.
As the dark night descends and into hell you go, you can tell yer pal Tony we’ve cast the death blow.
To hell with Labour and the lies they have told, a parcel of rogue’s who sold out for gold.
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