Charles Windsor

(McCarthy)

One, two, three, four

Charles Windsor, who's at the door?

At such an hour, who's at the door?

In the back of an old green Cortina

You're on your way to the guillotine

Here the rabble comes

The kind you hoped were dead

They've come to chop, to chopoff your head

Hundreds of bound, big business men

Hacks from The Sun. Military men

So many rich men weep in despair

On and on into Trafalgar Square



Here the rabble comes

The kind you hoped were dead

They've come to chop, to chop, chop, chop your head

These once peaceful streets

The scenes of revenge you'd wished not to see

Revenge is so sweet for those who don't know anything sweet

Here the rabble comes

The kind you hoped were dead

They've come to chop, to chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chopoff your head

(c) Complete Music