Sebastian is singing in a flat East Midlands accent, Sebastian is growing a beard.
Tarquin's tuning in to Children of the Stones and saying "My, weren't the 70s weird!"
Well, it was very, very frightening. The cats were fast as lightning.
You say you understand but don't you know there was a war on?
Spatio-temporal distortion.
Sebastian's got to have his vegan medication.

That's not happening.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.

The gammons are all whining for some kind of reclamation but they don't know what they want to reclaim.
Pining for some ill-defined imaginary nation, antecedents they would struggle to name.
It's political correctness gone mad.
It's political correctness gone mad.
How the hell are you suppoised to leave a continent?
You ain't gonna get me just yet.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.

I can't believe you still believe this.
I can't believe you haven't got it yet.
I can't believe you're such an architect
Of your own destruction.

Everybody's screaming on the laptop in the basement. Everybody's right and you're wrong.
Everybody's uptight and uptight is getting tighter coz the blighters fixed the odds all along.
It's political correctness gone mad.
It's political correctness gone mad.
Store all the hate up, wait for it to burst out,
Vile and vicious and spiteful and murderous.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.
I've had enough of all your bullshit.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.
You ain't gonna get me just yet.
Not just yet, no.