When I'm walking down the street It's always you I seem to meet Car coat on and steel boots on your feet And write your letters to the Evening News I pick up a knife and sing this tune It goes, Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head I said Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head, I said wah wah... When walking to work it's always you I seem to meet [?] in your hair, smelly in the heat And you kick the shit out of some poor kid I pick up a knife, I flip my lid It goes, Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head I said Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head I said I woka-to-ma, woka-to-ma Woka-to-ma, wah wah wah I said I woka-to-ma, woka-to-ma Woka-to-ma, wah wah wah The dead director of the BBC I'll show you what I'd love to see Swastikas and swimming pools I pick up a knife I sing this tune: It goes, Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head I said Hey fascist! Hey fascist! Hey fascist! You're gonna get it through the head I said I woka-to-ma, woka-to-ma Woka-to-ma, wah wah wah I said I woka-to-ma, woka-to-ma Woka-to-ma, wah wah wah I said-a fascist... oh