[Intro] [jagged guitar riff, bass kicks in, snare count] [Verse 1] He sat there while the doctor frowned And tapped away at the screen. “Your income’s under pressure, Your savings can’t be seen. Average balance: tragic. Credit score: looking sore.” “Doc, I graft ten hours a day!” “Exactly. You’ve got the poor.” [Chorus] YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! IT’S IN YOUR BLOOD! WORK ALL DAY, STILL NOT ENOUGH! YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! NO CURE, NO PLAN! BAD LUCK, MATE — DO WHAT YOU CAN! [Verse 2] He went straight round to his mum’s place. “Mum... you’d better sit.” She dropped her tea, began to cry. “Oh Christ. So this is it. You’re poor, aren’t you, darling? Your dad had it bad as well. His old man too. I prayed to God You’d somehow dodge it yourself. But have you tried not being poor? I mean, properly tried? We gave you every chance in life...” “Except money.” She cried. [Chorus] YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! IT’S IN YOUR BLOOD! WORK ALL DAY, STILL NOT ENOUGH! YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! NO CURE, NO PLAN! BAD LUCK, MATE — DO WHAT YOU CAN! [Bridge] “So, doctor, tell me please, What can I do for my disease?” “Put a second-hand iPhone on tick, Then get online and blame the lot. Migrants, homeless, anyone Who’s got even less than what you’ve got. And don’t go marching in the streets. Nobody wants to see that shit. Working people crying poverty? Mate, it’s fucking depressing.” “...And this will help?” “AHAHAHAHAH... PISS OFF, YOU POOR CUNT!” [Short Guitar Solo] [fast, ugly, two-chord solo] [Final Chorus] YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! IT’S IN YOUR BLOOD! WORK ALL DAY, STILL NOT ENOUGH! YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! NO CURE, NO PLAN! BAD LUCK, MATE — DO WHAT YOU CAN! YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! YOUR DAD DID TOO! KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN — IT MIGHT SKIP YOUR KIDS... ...probably won’t. [post chorus] ...YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! [guitar riff] ...YOU’VE GOT THE POOR! [guitar riff] [Outro] ... [instruments stop] “Doc... should I get a second opinion?” “You can’t afford one.” [guitar stabs] [end]
