If you don't stop and think about it twice
If you stand there and cough up the price
Then you'll wind up like the Poms on the bones of your arse
Paying through the nose for the pomped up farce
Of a well-heeled privileged few
When the left takes a swing to the right
They smile like the angel of light
And they point to the fact of their economic growth
Saying jobs or justice, you can't have both
We watch as they tighten the screw
Hold on fast to the thin red line
Singing Yellowcake Bob is no mate of mine
Now the B.L.F. have gone down
Bill Hartley's been run out of town
And the workers heads are filled with the views
Of the Willesee boys and the Channel Ten news
From the halls of profit and gain
Where they k**ed off the Land Rights Bill
Because it didn't put the cash in the till
And they wheel and deal with the crims at large
They nailed Big Norm on a trumped up charge
‘Cause he had more bottle than brain
This government of ours is just a puppet in the bosses' hands
Bending over backwards accommodating their demands
And the only thing that's new about the New Right
Is they've taken off the jack boots and put them out of sight
But it's the same old pile of nutse
So hold on fast to the thin red line
Singing Yellowcake Bob is no mate of mine