Lyrics
They are criminal policemen
They're in the pocket of a rich man
They leave half done jobs.
They say "holibobs"
The new labour leaders
Red top paper readers
They're never on time
They give parking fines
There's always some kunce in the way
Reaming your feelings and felching the day
There's always some stiο¬ on the make
At home, work or play
You can count on some kunce in the way
Bullies and narcissists
Anti- abortionists
They tell you what to eat
They leave their bags on seats
Superior cyclists, gammon apologists
They repeat themselves, they repeat themselves
Though they annoy me, they won't destroy me
I tolerate them only once, after that I'm done with kunce
Fight them, I hate them, rightly berate them
And any time they pull their stunts
I push back against the kunce
There's always some kunce in the way
They're in the pocket of a rich man
They leave half done jobs.
They say "holibobs"
The new labour leaders
Red top paper readers
They're never on time
They give parking fines
There's always some kunce in the way
Reaming your feelings and felching the day
There's always some stiο¬ on the make
At home, work or play
You can count on some kunce in the way
Bullies and narcissists
Anti- abortionists
They tell you what to eat
They leave their bags on seats
Superior cyclists, gammon apologists
They repeat themselves, they repeat themselves
Though they annoy me, they won't destroy me
I tolerate them only once, after that I'm done with kunce
Fight them, I hate them, rightly berate them
And any time they pull their stunts
I push back against the kunce
There's always some kunce in the way