The British Police are the best in the world I don't believe one of these stories I've heard 'Bout them raiding our pubs for no reason at all Lining the customers up by the wall Picking out people and knocking them down Resisting arrest as they're kicked on the ground Searching their houses and calling them queer I don't believe that sort of thing happens here
Sing if you're glad to be gay Sing if you're happy that way
Pictures of naked young women are fun In Titbits and Playboy, page three of The Sun There's no nudes in Gay News our last magazine But they still find excuses to call it obscene Read how disgusting we are in the press The News of The World and the Sunday Express Molesters of children, corruptors of youth It's there in the paper, it must be the truth
Sing if you're glad to be gay Sing if you're happy that way
Don't try to kid us that if you're discreet You're perfectly safe as you walk down the street You don't have to mince or make bitchy remarks To get beaten unconscious and left in the dark I had a friend who was gentle and short Got lonely one evening and went for a walk Queerbashers caught him and kicked in his teeth He was only hospitalised for a week
Sing if you're glad to be gay Sing if you're happy that way
So sit back and watch as they close all our clubs Arrest us for meeting and raid all our pubs Make sure your boyfriend's at least 21 So only your friends and your brothers get done Lie to your workmates, lie to your folks Put down the queens and tell anti-queer jokes Gay Lib's ridiculous, join their laughter 'The buggers are legal now, what more are they after?'
Sing if you're glad to be gay Sing if you're happy that way