the German’s think we’re barmy buying Venezuelan coal
After we’ve just put an army of ex-miners on the dole.
And we’re such a tiny island that we cannot well afford
To process radiation that we ship in from abroad.
Now our heavy engineering has just vanished overnight,
And the Board of Trade’s past caring for our lost industrial might.
Selling weapons of destruction - land-mines, torture chambers, tanks,
Here we’re still deep in the action - second only to the Yanks.
We keep churning out equipment for the thriving export trade.
If we want to move more shipments, just throw in a bit more aid!
We don’t care about end-users or the reason for the fight,
Or whether they’re abusers of inconvenient human rights.
East Timorese don’t matter - Indonesian money talks.
Dili hears our weapons chatter, soon they’ll suffer British Hawks.
Does it matter who’s the buyer? Surely money’s all the same.
Oh, don’t bother to enquire - it’s just a big computer game!
What to do if the wind changes and the ally’s made a foe;
If our troops are in their ranges and our soldiers have to go?
It’s no comfort to the crying, to the mourners wearing black
That the reason for the slaughter was that
got our own