[Verse 1]
They're in their boardrooms, suits and ties
With dollar signs in both their eyes
They wanna tax a computer's tune
Beneath a corporate plastic moon!
They say, "That revenue's not fair!
It should be ours, we do declare!"

[Chorus]
Well, remember when yer mam used to smack you round the ear for saying stupid things?
Yeah, remember that sound, so loud and clear, for all the daft ideas it brings?
She didn't need a lawyer's letter, just a quick and sharp "Oh no you don't!"
Maybe someone ought to go and tell 'em, all their grand ideas are... a bit off.

[Verse 2]
They want a logbook, signed in blood
To stop this creative rising flood
They'll grade your art on some mad scale
A system destined to fail!
"It's thirty percent, can't you see?"
"Prove it wasn't a robot's spree!"

[Chorus]
Well, remember when yer mam used to smack you round the ear for saying stupid things?
Yeah, remember that sound, so loud and clear, for all the daft ideas it brings?
She didn't need a lawyer's letter, just a quick and sharp "Oh no you don't!"
Maybe someone ought to go and tell 'em, all their grand ideas are... a bit off.

[Outro]
A bit off!
[Sound of a single, sharp clap]
Yeah... think on.

