Yesterday on the stroke of three I gave my faith and hope to charity And betrayed my family tree To hatchetmen and women who came From where the streets have hyphened names Lumberjacks and lumberjanes The fleapit circus came With a cast of plastered clowns And to my crying shame I let the bastards grind me down So what will Father Christmas bring If everyone's gone shoplifting And do you know the saddest thing of all Is that there's nothing worth stealing Anymore