Six filthy children from six absent fathers And then you turn to us for succour because you think we're just suckers We may be welfare, oh yeah, but we don't care and we get paid to despise your council house eyes You can change your name you can bleach your skin camouflage your accent so that even you don't recognise it But you won't escape from the slum mums because you are one because you live and breathe like one And the Labour government can't stand the slum mums It's ingrained underneath your fingernails The office of the Social Service is strategically placed in a dowdy, rowdy part of town to discourage you from signing We make you feel as if you're whining when you claim what's legally yours You can change your name and you can bleach your skin camouflage your accent so that even you don't recognise it But you won't escape from the slum mums because you are one because you live and breathe like one And the Labour government can't stand the slum mums It's ingrained underneath your fingernails Take you and your rat pack brood to the long grass of the meadow administer seven doses lethal and illegal which may render you elsewhere
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