Bromley Jobcentre, how I shan't miss thee,
Bromley Jobcentre, thank Christ you are history
For now the holy grail has come my way
At last, a journalism job that doth pay
We've shared some good times, you and I, you and I
So as I depart thee, I'll try not to cry
Your fat-bellied workers who never pick up the phone
God knows, when they leave work, they go home alone
How I'll miss their pimples, their wrinkles, their scowls
Their over-done make-up laid on with trowels
Bromley Jobcentre, I shan't miss thee, oh no, no indeed
As I leave your cheap surrounds, my heart it don't bleed
But I shall not forsake thee, oh no, no, not I
I will keep my claims booklet eternally close by
For in these hard times one can't be too sure
Permanent employment it just ain't for sure
And my fellow spongers, my chavtastic friends
Wave goodbye with your fag, as our journey now ends.
Bromley Jobcentre, I shan't miss thee,
Thank Christ you are history
For now the holy grail has come my way
At last, a journalism job that doth pay.
