The Grand Correction

I’ve got my wood stove I’ve got my chainsaw and my mortgage is paid off
I’ve got my airgun I’ll eat rabbit instead of stroganoff
And the back garden’s planted with spuds from fence to fence
Let the grand correction commence

With my foraging handbook I’ll stuff myself for free
Cos old fatty Ray Mears he’s got nothing on me
And I’ll give you both barrels and I’ll call it self defence
Let the grand correction commence

There’s kids who want to buy a house and they’re sleeping on the floor
While other people out there own two or three or four
Well the heat’s coming down and it’s going to be intense
Let the grand correction commence

Them city boys are hard nosed not a superstitious lot
Yet their mantra is “The Market” it’s the only one they’ve got
If the house of cards is held up by nothing more than “confidence”
Then let the grand correction commence

And how strange then to call your accounting software “Sage”
And then hand out a mortgage for nine times the combined wage
If the new Blue Sky Thinking might include some common sense
Let the grand correction commence

And don’t forget the iron lady as if we ever could
The vicious old spiv who taught all how greed was good
How she sold off our nation and gave rise to this nonsense
And how we bowed down and worshipped her avarice and her ignorance
Now… Let the grand correction commence
Let the grand correction commence