They're not fit to breathe our air

To breathe our air.

They've been warned a thousand times this year.

We were sold a sweet young lie a sweet young lie.

Another tale from another English town

From another English town.

It's getting hard to breathe 'round here

To think 'round here.

And we've been sold a thousand lies this year.

We just want the quiet life

The quiet life.

But they won't stop till they see us in the ground.

'till they see us in the ground.

We don't want to fight

We want the quiet life

Wish our lives away

Wish our lives away

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