London's new work song - To the tune of When I'm 64.
Dressed in a suit and holding a flag
Humming corporate tunes
We march every morning to the beat of the drums
With a raft of jokers under company thumbs
Blindly we troop like we're already dead
Jostling for space
Last night's television fresh in our minds
Arse's sticking out like centaurs behinds
Chattering madly to no-one at all
On our little head-sets
Laughing in public like bleating lambs
Hanging in the tube like sides of ham
You will know us when we march on
To our destiny
Squeaking like lemmings as we jump as one
Over the edge to kingdom come
We are the flotsam, we are the jetsam
Push us if you can, oh yeah
We are the flotsam, we are the jetsam
Push us if you can.
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