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
