They want and get their country back
And start to build a little shack
Up in the woods, along the track
Away from all that they have borne
Away from foreigners and towns
Away from mortarboards and gowns
They scratch a living from the soil
In cabin porn

They grow a tree, they start a blog
They milk the pig, they kill the dog
For weeks and weeks they see no-one
They are so meek their face is gone
They call themselves "the frozen ones"
And they could soon be born again
Dug up like unexploded bombs
In cabin porn

They're total cocks, they're all the same
With their apocalyptic brains
They've turned their backs on urban life
The multi-culti dream has gone
Don't call them trash or insular
They may be rash, they may be poor
But we will all be islanders in cabin porn
They write a pungent little screed against modernity
A manifesto, so it seems, against basic literacy
They cannot use apostrophes, they cannot spell "hypocrisy"
Their manifesto goes unread by everyone except God

They think that man was not designed
To live with men with different minds
They think the world will come to them
They plan hide and bide their time
It starts to rain, they wait for dawn
They know the rest will be along
The day the pure embrace the lure of cabin porn

They want and get their country back
And start to build their little shack
Away from experts and from blacks
In cabin porn