Twenty five quid to live on, seven days a week to survive
Five and twenty pictures of the queen, you won't see the starvation in her eyes
Twenty five quid to dish out and you're already ten in debt
So with fifteen singles left over the landlord gets the rent
MAGGIE
MAGGIE, YOU CUNT
MAGGIE
MAGGIE, YOU CUNT
MAGGIE
MAGGIE YOU CUNT
MAGGIE, MAGGIE, MAGGIE, MAGGIE
YOU FUCKING CUNT
Twenty five reasons for trouble, three million mouths to feed They're destroying your mind and body While they increase their own needs
Twenty five quid of insult, two meals soon kills your health
They want to see you suffer, they want to see you dead
MAGGIE
MAGGIE, YOU CUNT
MAGGIE
MAGGIE, YOU CUNT
MAGGIE
MAGGIE YOU CUNT
MAGGIE, MAGGIE, MAGGIE, MAGGIE
YOU FUCKING CUNT