A man walk's down the road that he's walked on so many times, from boarded up shop fronts and for sale signs doesn't recognize this town any more.

Win or lose, sink or swin, play or be played that's how it is today.

A woman hangs on to the telephone line but nobody answers her call, an old man sits home alone waiting for God but nobody knocks on the door.

Britain's for sale, find the holy grail, shore up the banks, roll in the tanks and then bail, cause it's all for sale...

A prospector stands in the mud sifting for gold but all that he's left with is stone, a dog wanders aimlessly in the park hoping that someone will throw him a bone.

Britain's for sale, find the holy grail, shore up the banks, roll in the tanks and then bail...

cause its all for sale...