And so in the tradition of Manfred the Great   The people built the glorious vision in his name   Great Britain they called it, a land for heroes   A land where no one was starving, a paradise, a garden of Eden   The garden of Eden, levelled to the ground   And concreted over, re-built from scratch   With I.C.I. man-made fibres, they made their paradise out of plastic   But our world is cracked and it's showing through   The plastic backed cello-taped superglue   The paper money and the patched up lies   The cover-up jobs, the fact they try to hide   That all the king's horses and all the king's men   Will never stick our world together again   With their plastic, sticky-backed, red-taped lies,   And all the paper money they exchange for our lives   Think about it, our world, all the ecological catastrophes   They're happening all at once, at the same time now   Mankind to the rescue, I ask you why?   To him tomorrow is just another fucking day fucking up the earth   Filling his fat silver-lined pockets full   So please listen, dear peoplekind   See the reason that minkind won't save the earth   Cos there's no money in it for him, it's not worth his while   It's up to us   It's up to us   It's up to us, each and every one of us