Lyrics

Every time you pick up the newspaper Every time you switch on the TV Every time you pick up the newspaper Every time you switch on the TV You can bet your old boots that at some point you'll see A high-ranking copper or Tory MP Calling on all who are British and free To stand up and defend law and order It's illegal to rip off a payroll It's illegal to hold up a train; But it's legal to rip off a million or two That comes from the labour that other folk do To plunder the many on behalf of the few Is a thing that is perfectly legal It's illegal to kill off a landlord Or to trespass upon his estate But to change a high rеnt for a slum is OK To condemn two adults and three children to stay In a hovel that's rottеn with damp and decay Is a thing that is perfectly legal If your job turns you into a zombie It's legal to feel some despair But don't be aggressive that is if you're smart And for Christ's sake, don't upset the old apple cart Remember the boss has your interests at heart And it grieves him to see you unhappy If you fashion a bomb in the kitchen You're guilty of breaking the law But a bloody great nuclear plant is OK Though plutonium processing hastens the day When this tight little isle may be blasted away Nonetheless, it is perfectly legal It's illegal if you are a gypsy To camp by the side of the road But it's proper and right for the rich and the great To live in a mansion and own an estate That was got from the people by pillage and rape That's what they call a tradition It's illegal to carve up your missus Or put poison in your old man's tea But poison the rivers, the seas and the skies And poison the mind of a nation with lies If it's done in the interest of free enterprise Then it's proper and perfectly legal It's legal to join a trade union And to picket is one of your rights But don't be offensive when scabs cross the line Be nice to the coppers and keep this in mind: To picket effectively, that is a crime Worse than if you had murdered your mother It's legal to sing on the telly But they make bloody sure that you don't If you sing about racists and fascists and creeps And thieves in high places who live off the weak And those who are selling us right up the creek The twisters, the takers, the con men, the fakers The whole bloody gang of exploiters