Letra de Weapons Expo

A secret art of keeping friends in high places It's Zen and the art of Dictator Maintenance At the weapons expo the British High Commissioner thanks General Bastard for buying more tanks Peaceful pledges so plausibly made All torn through in the name of trade Exploit the arms race Paint up our other face A little war is always good for business The price of oil and the flow of refugees Are intertwined with our foreign policy Self-righteous anger may give comfort but it's bunk Cos whose fault is lack of jobs or council housing stock? So where does all the blood money go? They've got a holding cell in case you might know but they pipe back the pictures with the solemn descriptions and someone in Woking gets slightly put off their dinner Guaranteed to detonate or your money back Guaranteed to maim, my friend And as half the world blows lumps out of each other We can look out from our island fiction with pride As we know that Britain's keeping up one of its finest traditions: Arming both sides.