Blakey and Olive, freaks and fascists
It's a Knockout with tiny moustaches
The Mosley frontbench, cheered on by the masses
Take on the cast of On the Buses

A cry goes up: "I'll get you, Butler"
Mosley leers, he's played his Joker

Enoch Powell, he's the man for me
Enoch Powell, he's the man for me

Powell gets tired of simple people
So he annexed the Midlands to frighten some liberals
Former firebrand has epiphany hairy
Now it's Groundhogs, Gong and Pink Fairies

The pot-head pixies on his shoulder
Are getting more right-wing as they get older

Enoch Powell, he's the man for me
Enoch Powell, he's the man for me

The former MP, now poet laureate, surveys the scene below, the giant custard pies and the foam...

[???]

Floating anarchy, that's where I want to be
'Cos space rocks, and space is the place for me

Mr Mosley, it's a pleasure to know you
I'm honoured to shake your hand
But those heads taught me something I didn't know
Something that you won't understand

You said I was the poet of the nation
Well, I'm a poet, man, I'm the poet of the constellation

Enoch Powell, he's the man for me
Enoch Powell, he's the man for me

And the pot-head pixies know it
Enoch Powell, space poet


Lyrics submitted by BrutalBart

Enoch Powell Space Poet song meanings
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