May 2020 – Steve White & The Protest Family

Derek

Derek thinks that the lockdown’s over
Derek says get on with recovery
Derek’s got the phone-in on the blower
Derek won’t buy anything Chinese

Derek thinks Cummings should’ve got the sack
Derek voted to take control back
Derek has faith in the British public
Derek doesn’t know anyone that’s been sick

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

Derek is a fan of strong leadership
Derek now thinks that Johnson will fail
If he supports an advisor who’s a liar, which
Is as welcome in Clacton as a beached whale

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

He says if the virus don’t get him, something else will
As he rolls another fag and throws a burger on the grill
Derek says the risks are overrated
But he’ll follow the rules that’ve been promulgated

And he’s a regular caller to the Farage show
From the confines of his seaside bungalow
Nigel says it and Derek agrees
And Derek won’t buy anything Chinese

Derek doesn’t get it, though he sometimes might
Derek’s mostly wrong but occasionally right
He’s casually racist, not politically correct
Derek still had a vote last time I checked

May 31, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, Lyrics, SteveTags: beached whale, boris johnson, brexit, Clacton, coronavirus, COVID-19, dominic cummings, nigel farage, public opinion, songwriting, writing 1 Comment

Van-Tam’s a football fan
It’s Boston United for the government’s man.
That’s why he helped them to decide
To allow you games of three-a-side.
He hopes it’ll help you to keep fit
If you don’t tear the pants out if it.

May 30, 2020May 31, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, poetry, SteveTags: coronavirus, COVID-19, Jonathan Van-Tam, poetry, press conference, writing Leave a comment

On Not Following the Science

It took the Cummings fiasco
For the government to let go
Of the scientific say so
With a bribe so shallow
For a back to work heigh-ho
And an off to school you go.

It’s still early you know,
The numbers could grow
But there’s no economic flow
As they tire of furlough
It’s about the dough
This public health blow,
Not keeping the R low
It’s about what we owe.

They claim progress although
The numbers don’t show
That we’re within a stone’s throw
Of Wuhan or Guangzhou,
We’re more Moscow than Tokyo
Or Montevideo;
While the White House sideshow
Lets Trump have a go
At the WHO.

So, when they say that they know
What you know they don’t know
And with words that sound hollow
Tell you to follow
And tell you to go
Reserve your right to say no.

Track Trace

May 30, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, poetry, SteveTags: coronavirus, COVID-19, dominic cummings, donald trump, following the science, R number, WHO Leave a comment

Barbecue Season

I’ve been waiting so long
But now I’m asking myself
How patient am I supposed to be?
Pacing the floor in
This place we call home
That’s starting to feel like captivity

There’s a dent in the chair
Where I sit all day
It’s what’s called working from home
Answer an email
Go internet shopping
Making the most of your furlough

The smoke in the air says
It’s barbecue season
But I don’t really want to eat
Invite your six friends
Into the garden
To try to stay apart six feet

The voice on the telly
Spoke the new normal
Whatever that’s supposed to be
Getting too used to
The dead and the dying
Is that what they mean by Level 3?

The smoke in the air says
It’s barbecue season
But I don’t really want to eat
Invite your six friends
Into the garden
To try to stay apart six feet

My neighbour said
I should be at work
Like Nick Ferrari on LBC
Suck it up
Don’t be lazy
Roll up your sleeves for the economy

The smoke in the air says
It’s barbecue season
But I don’t really want to eat
Invite your six friends
Into the garden
To try to stay apart six feet

The smoke in the air says
It’s barbecue season
But I don’t really want to eat
I really don’t see
How we’re gonna do it
How are we gonna stay apart six feet?

May 29, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, Lyrics, SteveTags: barbecue, barbeque, BBQ, coronavirus, COVID-19, lockdown, strategy 1 Comment

Hey, Dido!

Hey Dido,
How’s the track and trace going?
We hear that your site crashed on its very first day.
And Dido, we hear that you were supposed to get the app first anyway.
Dido, are you covering for Dom? You weren’t supposed to start ‘til Monday

Hey Dido,
How’s the track and trace going?
We hear that your staff have had very little training
After you got them in with your last-minute recruitment campaigning
And Dido, you must know that public confidence is waning?

Hey Dido,
How’s the track and trace going?
We hear that you’re gonna be the one to blame
And Dido, who was it that came up with that awful name?
You must know that most people fail at the Whackamole game

Hey Dido,
How’s the track and trace going?
Is it true you have no medical expertise?
But Dido, you were CEO of a telecoms company
And Dido, is it true that you’re married to a Tory MP?

Damn

May 28, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, Lyrics, SteveTags: coronavirus, COVID-19, Dido Harding, test, test and trace, track and trace, Whackamole 1 Comment

A Daily Mail Poll

Did Cummings act responsibly
Legally, or with integrity?
70% of respondents disagree.
And 63% of answers back
Said that Johnson should’ve given him the sack,
While 66% of readers think it’s time
For Dominic Cummings to resign.

66% said he’s telling lies,
82% said he should apologise
And 78% surmise
That he didn’t drive to Barnard Castle to test his eyes.

Now, 70% of people polled agree
That it’s one rule for them and one for me.

Who expected condemnation on this scale
From the readership of the Daily Mail?

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May 27, 2020May 27, 2020 by protestfamily Categories: COVID-19, poetry, SteveTags: boris johnson, coronavirus, COVID-19, Daily Mail, dominic cummings, poetry, writing Leave a comment

22 Days (Of Dither & Delay)