Who do you think you are kidding, Mr. Major,
When you're trying out your tongue?
We are the ones to tell profit from a loss,
We are the ones who cough up to pay the boss -
So why do you think we are fibbing, Mr. Major
If we claim that we've been stung?
Mr. Brown can paint the town
In several shades of dung,
'Cause he comes home each annum
With another million bung.
So watch out, Mr. Major,
You are sounding very crass:
When your new balloon goes up
You'll see it's full of Gas -
So who do you think's being diddled, Mr. Major,
When you hear the cash-bell rung?