Seven Fat Englishmen Lyrics - Sheila Nicholls

Seven fat Englishmen sit around you on bar stools 

Blood red faces, unaware that they're dying fast 

And as this blood squeezes through their blocked arteries 

These farming men, drinking gin, pickling their livers 

It's normal here 

And I reach into this circle to fetch you out 

And I reach into this circle to fetch you out 

Of this sticky mess of gin and blood and soil but you can't leave 

Gin and blood and soil but you can't leave 

And as the spice girls prostitute, girl power in the background 

On tinny speakers you smile 

And desperation seeps through your teeth 

As you laugh with them, agree with them 

Make business with them 'cos this is your life 

Seven fat Englishmen sit around you on bar stools 

Blood red faces, unaware that they're dying fast 

And as this blood squeezes through their blocked arteries 

These farming men, drinking gin, pickling their livers 

It's normal here