Ant Smith

Political

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead

Maggie

Dead

Maggie

Dead

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead

What kind of gruesome thing with tits

Would take the milk away from kids?

It churns my stomach when I think

Of her suckling little twins

Ah! Of moaning minnies she would sing

While she taxed every little thing

And battle ships she liked to sink

With her lizard sideways blink

Against minors, gypsies, working folk

She attacked our homes and our all hopes

Deployed her armies at our doors

Her democracy was settling scores

Thatcher's brutes they brutalised

Bruised and battered my good wife

But now she has a battle cry

Trafalgar's heroes saw you die!

Then in one final cruel blow

They're gonna burn her up you know

The final proof goes up in smoke

She died about a year ago

Hold the press, they've got some news

To bury deep along with you

Cameron's learned his lessons well

But still he'll join her down in hell

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead

Maggie

Dead

Maggie

Dead

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Dead, dead, dead


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