Skyclad Do They Mean Us
Dance round the maypole, rappers and mummers
Stepping in and out of time.
Cockeys, Brummies, Tykes and Geordies
Players in this pantomime.
From Notting Hill to Tyneside's Mela
Marching ghosts of colliery bands.
Farmer's markets, high tech sweatshops
Such a 'green a pleasant land.'
In an English country garden,
"Clearing the land.. exurban man.'
Puddings made with bread and butter
The lash of the whip and rhyming slang
Speakers corner, Miners' Welfare
Images all juxtaposed,
With this patchwork panorama
You have to laugh, "Do they mean us?"
Lager louts and laddish culture
St. George's cross upon your pate.
John Bull in Beau Brummel's waistcoat
Knuckles tatooed love and hate.
Schizophrenic, new age, new man
Bite your lip, don't make a fuss.
The malaise of "The English Patient"
You have to laugh, "Do they mean us?"
"Oop North" where they bathe in gravy
Sarees seen on cobbled streets
Down south it's a top coat warmer
'Kiss me quick' on Margate beech.
English blood runs mild and bitter
Adam's ale or council pop?
Refugees, asylum seekers
Multi-racial melting pot.
Such inherent contradictions
A crisis of identity
Are the smiles all disingenuous?
Quote English eccentricity.
From Lands End up to Kielder Water
All "make believe" and "just suppose."
Given the "whole sink and puddle"
In the end, "Do they mean us?"
