I'm not proud to be British!
What's so great about that?
What do we have the rest don't
apart from all the chat?
For it's words that puff our billows,
words make Jack to fly,
words that run our engines,
words the tourists buy!
I'm no racist nor bigot
but there are those I resent:
all puffed-up racist wind-bags
from John O' Groats to Kent.
They make me sick with their moaning
of "wogs" and "frogs" and "commies".
Australians don't surprise me
when they call us "whinging Pommies!"
For your British lounge-spectator
spots the mote in the foreign eye
and never will moan of the beam in his own
for a Briton must never cry.
You may say I'm a traitor
but I don't give a damn,
cos I'm not proud to be British!
... Oh, sod it, yes I am.