I'm flying with pride and blonde and tan
But the pride is straight and old as your gran,
The blonde and tan aren't as deep as the roots
And under the surface are long straight salutes.
We're late because someone else's fault.
The plane is a shop where your life can be bought
But sneezy kids' germs are entirely free
In exchange for the seat which they stole from me.
The man one ahead is a selfish cunt
Who kisses his wife but it's just a front:
He thinks the entire aircraft's his
And family-fuhrer is taking the piss.
Of course the onboard wine's reisling,
It's a beaming patriot local thing
For theirs is the power and one day the glory:
The only, special, destined story.
The aircraft is made out of allied parts
But that doesn't change what is true to their hearts:
They'd rather the curtains were red not blue
And they have alternative transport for you.