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    Oh How Petty Bourgeois

    Thatcher is dead, take joy wide and far,
    but don't celebrate, or you'll be petty bourgeois.

    Thatcher is dead, it is a wonderful present,
    but don't celebrate, or you'll be decadent.

    Thatcher is dead, so laugh, dance and sing,
    but don't celebrate, it is an ultra-leftist thing.

    Thatcher is dead, but go tell it upon nations,
    that remembering her vile deeds is just vilification.

    Thatcher is dead, the friend of Reagan and Pinochet,
    but celebrating is petty bourgeois, or so they say.

    Thatcher is dead, go tell the puritans,
    who talk endlessly of the revolution,
    but understand not the feeling of humanity,
    at the death of someone of such savagery,
    who pontificate and like to only dictate,
    what we should feel, and who we can't hate,
    who after each time prattle 'revolutionary regards',
    like reading it from a Communist Party Christmas Card,
    without understanding the meaning of the phrase,
    because they refuse to understand Thatcher's ways,
    and demand the laughing, dancing and singing ends,
    because it's just vilification and it might offend,
    the progress of revolution that they read from dusty books,
    looking upon joy with a scowling look,
    who frown, and shake their judging heads,
    at the celebration of the fact that Maggie's dead.

    Not going to work on Maggie's Farm no more,
    not going to stand for a Thatcherite repeat encore,
    You can't vilify that which is already vile,
    or else that just leaves you in absurd denial,
    Understand that before you preach what is revolution,
    take a step forward in social evolution,
    all it takes is a little understanding,
    and a little less insincere grandstanding,
    by those who claim they are the vanguard,
    but whose lectures are nothing but a dry fart,
    If I can't dance, it's not my revolution,
    not if I'm not allowed jubilation.

    Say it again:

    Petty bourgeois, Petty bourgeois - celebrate Thatcher's death, then that's what you are.
    Petty bourgeois, Petty bourgeois - celebrate Thatcher's death, then that's what you are.

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