[Intro - Lo-fi Garage Beat with a Posh Cello] [Verse 1] It started on a Tuesday, I was eating soggy toast When I got a final notice from the bastards at the Post They wanted Sixty-Nine Pounds for a license for the box So I barricaded the hallway and I changed all of the locks I printed out a charter on some greaseproof kitchen paper Declaring independence from the Crown and every scraper I put a border control sign on the communal front door And told the neighbors they were foreigners from the second floor [Pre-Chorus] (He’s the President, the King, and the Prime Minister) (His foreign policy is getting rather sinister) [Chorus] Welcome to the Republic of Number Forty-Two Where the laws are made by me and the tea is always brew I’ve got a national anthem played on a plastic comb I’m the only citizen in my sovereign lounge-room home No taxes for the council, no bills for the electric The situation’s glorious, if a little bit eclectic [Verse 2] [Fast Conversational Delivery] I tried to order a kebab from the shop down on the lane But the driver got confused and said I’m causing him some pain He said "I'm at the border," and I said "Show me your visa" He threw the meat and chips at me and called me a geezer The United Nations haven't sent a delegate yet But I’ve renamed the bathroom 'The Port of Wet' I’m printing my own currency on the back of old receipts One Thousand 'Garys' is the price for any treats [Bridge] [Dramatic Operatic Strings and Heavy Bass] The bailiffs are at the border, they’re breaching the settee They don't recognize my status or my right to be free I tried to claim asylum in the kitchen by the sink But the fridge has gone on strike and it’s starting to stink I’m a political prisoner in a pair of M and S pants Waiting for the world to join my revolutionary dance [Chorus] Welcome to the Republic of Number Forty-Two Where the laws are made by me and the tea is always brew I’ve got a national anthem played on a plastic comb I’m the only citizen in my sovereign lounge-room home No taxes for the council, no bills for the electric The situation’s glorious, if a little bit eclectic [Outro] [Fading Beat with Plaintive Oboe] They’ve cut the power now, the revolution’s gone dark I should have kept the flat as part of the UK, for a lark (He’s a failed state) (Check the exchange rate) (It’s getting quite late) One Gary is now worth absolutely nothing. [End]
