You ain’t one of us!

You don’t speak our language; you don’t accept our rites,

You love going to school, you’re never in fights,

You’re a fanny, a minge, a shame to the blood,

You don’t act or do what a gypsy lad should.

 

You ain’t one of us!

You love the gorja; you call them your friends,

The bairns of bobbies, where does your loyalty lie in the end?

You want to leave ...

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Yesterday a policeman shit on my head

when I went to complain to a pigeon

about my gypsy being stolen by two cars.

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They bought the land, we understand
With hard cash fair and square
But as they are not English folk
They cannot build their own park there
On land that they themselves own
As a blockade blocks the load
Of supplies for drainage and ancillary works
So they don't camp on the road
For their town is picturesque
In the heart of Old England
The truth's if your not white, E...

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