Frank Turner - There are bad times just around the corner lyrics

They're out of sorts in Sunderland And terribly cross in Kent They're dull in Hull And the Isle of Mull Is seething with discontent They're nervous in northumberland And Devon is down the drain They're filled with wrath on Firth of Forth And sullen on Salisbury plain In Dublin they're depressed lads Maybe because they're Celts For drake is going West, lads And so is everyone else Hurray! Hurray! Hurray! Misery is here to stay There are bad times just around the corner There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky And it's no good whining About a silver lining For we know from experience they won't roll by With a scowl and a frown we'll keep our peckers down And prepare for depression and doom and dread We're going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag And wait until we drop down dead From Portland Bill to Scarborough They're querulous and subdued And Shropshire lads Have behaved like cads From Berwick-on-Tweed to Bude They're mad at Market Harborough And livid at Leigh-on-Sea In Tunbridge Wells You can hear the yells Of woe-begone bourgeoisie We all get b**hed about, lads Whoever our vote elects We know we're up the spout, lads And that's what England expects Hurray! Hurray! Hurray! Trouble is on the way There are bad times just around the corner The horizon is gloomy as can be There are black birds over The greyish cliffs of Dover And the rats are preparing to leave the BBC We're unhappy breed, and very bored indeed When reminded of something that Nelson said While the press and the politicians nag, nag, nag We will wait until we drop down dead From Colwyn Bay to Kettering They're sobbing themselves to sleep The shrieks and wails In the Yorkshire dales Have even depressed the sheep In rather vulgar lettering A very disgruntled group Have posted bills On the Cotswold Hills To prove that we're in the soup While begging Kipling's pardon There's one thing we know for sure: If England is a garden We ought to have more manure Hurray! Hurray! Hurray! Suffering and dismay There are bad times just around the corner And the outlook's absolutely vile There are Home Fires smoking From Windermere to Woking And we're not going to tighten our belts and smile, smile, smile At the sound of a shot We'd just as soon as not Take a hot water bottle and go to bed We're going to untense our muscles till they sag, sag, sag And wait until we drop down dead There are bad times just around the corner We can all look forward to despair It's as clear as crystal From Bridlington to Bristol That we can't save democracy and we don't much care If the Reds and the Pinks Believe that England stinks And that world revolution is bound to spread We'd better all learn the lyrics of the old 'Red Flag' And wait until we drop down dead