No longer being a prince ain’t justice
The When-Willy-Is-King hints ain’t justice
Not being the Duke of York ain’t justice
All the media talk ain’t justice
(Not being the Earl of Inverness
Does anyone care less?)
Exile to Sandringham ain’t justice
Surnamed Mountbatten ain’t justice
Not Baron Killyleagh ain’t justice
How long the delay on justice?
They’re just protecting the brand
Letting you think he’s damned
But beyond the pale
Still ain’t in jail
Happy hour seems like a long time ago
Now it turns out that Rachel didn’t have a licence to run the New Austerity Inn
Don’t worry said the Big Boss from the Brewery
We all make mistakes
And while the beer is stale
and the punters are depressed
they all come in for a warm-up
this time of year
What they gonna do?
Go to the ‘Spoons?
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit
(Log on)
Embery says there’s too many blacks on TV
Pochin Reform MP says I agree
Little Tommy Tel Aviv Telegrams in
Benny’s Luton teddy with the cocaine grin
Luton, Durham, Epping, Stoke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke
Need a toke to supercharge your anti-woke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit
Race is where the money wants you to go
Race is where they say the blame is—oh
Race is where the money wants you to go
The money made the racism don’t you know
‘Cos you don’t go to war with your equals
You go to war with the not-like-you
You don’t go to war with your equals
That’s why they’re feeding you on Elon’s stew
(Elon’s racist stew—fuck you)
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit
In Epping Adam says that paedos make him ill
Only the ones with brown faces still
Not the hundreds of white ones up the hill
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill
Adam’s got a TV slot he needs to fill
Adam’s got a mission that he needs to fulfil
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill
Adam’s making bitcoin off the red pill
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit
Flags or community you choose
A seat on the bus or Great Replacement News
You can be a racist or you can refuse
A swim in the cesspit
A wade in you guessed it
Another day in the shit
Weave the finest golden thread
Into a basket on your head
While spray tan panda eyes
Stare out from your disguise
Purse your lips into a bow
Like a German umlaut O
And tell them that it’s beautiful
That it’s indisputable
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?
And if that ain’t enough to scare ‘em
A masked militia might
Set upon anyone
Who isn’t quite white
Tear down, destroy and pillage
To remake in your image
Oh, the trick is sweet
Demand a Nobel treat
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?
Light your pumpkin lanterns
Stock up on your sweets
The monster’s coming
Trick or treat?
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?
Trick or treat?
We’ve played a few Under The Influence shows over the years. In the 15th anniversary edition of the podcast, Nathan and Dillon discuss the early days, the future and a nice piece about us. You can catch up with it here.
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
Earl of Inverness
Erstwhile passenger aboard the Lolita Express
Refuses to confess
Shelled out twelve million nonetheless
Of public money, at a guess
Is still the Duke of York, unless
Parliament decides otherwise
Which would come as some surprise
Given its current tenants
So, he maintains the dukedom in his clutch
Just offers to not be known as such
Somehow by way of penance
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
His sweatless bluff now failed
His lies to Emily unveiled
Thought eighth in line would just prevail
But to no avail
Prepares for life beyond the pale
Should be in jail
Eighty years ago
My grandad lived in Walthamstow
He saw the queue for fish and chips
Get blown to bits
By a bomb in World War Two
Hated fascists, like you do
Moved to Clacton in ‘82
Derek lives in his house now
Flies the flag, English and proud
Remembers the war like yesterday
‘Though he weren’t born ‘til ‘53
He left Walthamstow in ‘92
And now he votes for fascists
Like you do
This land of the free, land of opportunity
This land of decree and presidential immunity
This land of MAGA suck-it-up
And everybody’s got a gun
This land of the free, this land of the brave
This land where rich folk go to misbehave
This land of tariffs
And society coming undone
This land ain’t your land, this land is their land
Where the borders are closed and dissent is banned
And the boots are on the ground
Like fascism one-oh-one
This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
A truck load of ICE agents coming into sight
Chasing people of colour
Wearing masks and shooting guns
Oh, say can you see by Jeffrey’s list
That power and abuse always coexist
And the land of the free
Is run by fortunate sons
This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town
The star-spangled banner’s looking pretty grubby
The star-spangled banner’s looking for the money
Grifted away from sea to shining sea
The star-spangled banner’s looking pretty grim
When everything hangs on a presidential whim
To grift it away from sea to shining sea
This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town
This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town
Racist Bob went to Handsworth
As close to a slum as I’ve come, he said
As close to numb as a bum, in his head
That’s been sat on for too long
As long as Bob’s been wrong
I didn’t see another white face, he said
Er, but it’s not about race, he said
That racist Bob
He thinks racism is fashionable
And he’s after the top job
Is Racist Bob
Steve White & The Protest Family 