 Let's inherit the earth, cause no one else is taking it,
Come on do your worst, before the moment's gone.
I'n bedrooms across England, and all the Western world,
There's posters and there's magazines,
The music isn't ours.
Cause we write love songs in E,
And we do politics in G
We sing songs about our friends in E minor.
So turn out the stars now and take up your guitar,
And come on folks and try this at home.
Let's stop waiting around, for someone to patronise us,
Let's hammer out a sound that speaks of where we've been.
Forget about the haircuts, the stupid skinny jeans,
the stampedes and the irony, the media-fed scenes
Cause we write love songs in E,
And we do politics in G
We sing songs about our friends in E minor.
So turn out the stars now and take up your guitar,
And come on folks and try this at home.
Because the only thing that punk rock should ever really mean
is not sitting round and waiting for the lights to go green,
and not thinking that you're better because you're stood up on a stage.
If you're oh so fucking different then who cares what you have to say?
And there's no such thing as rock stars, there's just people who play music,
and some of them are just like us, and some of them are dicks.
So quick, turn off your stereo, pick up that pen and paper,
you could do much better than some half-arsed skinny English country singer
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