In the queen's old town, lived royalty
Happy with their little gangs, happy with their TVs
Then came a knock on their door
And a handshake or two
Photograph flashes, betacam madness
The men in white whispered in their ears, they said
'Make-shift Magic!'

Grandma is sick, her hands are shaking
The walls are covered black, and the room it starts a-shaking
But now her money's in the papers, a lot of smiling faces
'Get out of yr slums, slide into the modern age
We'll show you, you'll be happy with our
Make-shift Magic!'