The Mackems are coming, Bolt all your doors
Hide all your Jewellery under the floors
Zip up your pockets, keep everything tight
From a bus load of thieves - from the Stadium of Shite
They'll climb in your garden and rifle your bins
Cos they live off Pot Noodle's & Left over things
They'll break through your windows and steal all your goods
Then go back to their camp in Pennywell Woods
Shell Suits still fashion down Sunderland Way
Bright House their saviour with 5 yrs to pay........
They'll wash in the Wear and struggle to cope
And they don't understand the reason for soap
Their women are grannies when they reach 29
dreaming of holidays on the banks of the Tyne !
As they look in their mirrors and think what a mess
If only I was a Mag - to that they confess!