Theresa laughs at the Daily Mail graphs
She loves to be one of the girls
She lives in the place in the side of our lives
Where people love Olly Murs
She turns herself 'round and she smiles and she says
"It's time for The Psychedelic Furs"
And loses herself in her dreaming and sleep
And says let's crush the saboteurs
She doesn't think
Does she?
Her platitudes stink
She's empty
All her backbenchers talk of her shoes
And the soundbites that they make her say
And isn't it easy?
Easier not to think?
She's too scared to talk on a TV debate
Because she is empty inside
And just like the last time when she was all for Remain
She always chooses to hide
She doesn't think
Does she?
Her platitudes stink
She's empty
Crush the saboteurs
We're The Psychedelic Furs
Crush the saboteurs
