Torn, torn at the seams By the truth so it seems I'm afraid of it As the end beckons nearer The hold I'm fear of Loosens, the noose around my neck Crying the tears of men Until austerity wears thin It's below the mark This country will fall to it's death In the hands of the Mogg Johnson, the lot We're tied to the cross They'll propose Just what they know they can't fulfil Holding wealth, far from reach Yet still us, footing the bill And we're so tired, tired But we won't fall without, a fight Not on my life Or the treacherous ceiling Designed for importance to lie Crying the tears of men Until austerity wears thin It's below the mark This country will fall to it's death In the hands of the Mogg Johnson, the lot We're tied to the cross Believe me It's where it starts And we're so tired We're so tired We're so tired We're so tired We're so tired now