Farage vs Coutts, Round Two

He was a broker, not a banker
Now the bank thinks he’s a wanker
(An easy rhyme, from time to time
Is not a crime, if so inclined)
But don’t shower them with applause
When they also bank the Ingram-Moores
Who used the Captain Tom Foundation
To fund their own recreation
And tried to build a swimming pool
Not a hospital or school
‘Til subject to overwhelming
Social media ridicule
But to the case in hand
Bank-less racist Brexit man
Who’s crying, woe is me
The wokerati, I’m cancelled see
‘Cause there’s reputational damage
To be linked with folk like Farage*

*He hates it when you pronounce it like that

A Safe Pair Of Hands

A safe pair of hands for the money
A safe pair of hands for the debts
A safe pair of hands for capital
Says he’s safe too for the NHS

A safe place for former Tory MP’s
A safe place for a stab in the back
Not a safe place to support Palestine
Safe to say that you’ll just get the sack

A safe pair of hands for the money
The bankers have nothing to fear
Tell the rich that it’s safe to vote Labour
A safe pair of hands is Sir Kier

Painting Over the Cartoons

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
He’s a bastard in the morning
And he’s worse in the afternoons

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
Bob doesn’t want the children
To feel human too

They’re not wanted here
Move them on from here
Do not give them the impression
That they’re welcome here

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
He’s a bastard in the morning
And he’s worse in the afternoons

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
He’ll suffer no succour for the war-torn
And trauma-strewn

They’re not wanted here
Move them on from here
Do not give them the impression
That they’re welcome here

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
He’s a bastard in the morning
And he’s worse in the afternoons

Bob’s painting over the cartoons
Whistling the tunes of racists
And swivel-eyed loons

They’re not wanted here
Move them on from here
Do not give them the impression
That they’re welcome here

This is the hostile environment
This is exactly what they meant
Their message is very clear

Bob’s painting over the cartoons

Running Out of Money

Nigel ain’t politically exposed
Nigel’s cash is just a little indisposed
Nigel went and got his account closed
Cause Nigel’s running out of money

Nigel ain’t a victim of persecution
He’s just having issues with his contribution
Nigel’s pile’s suffering from diminution
Seems Nigel’s running out of money

Nigel ain’t a martyr he’s just a bit skint
If you wanna bank at Coutts you’d better have a mint
Nigel, it seems didn’t wanna take the hint
That Nigel’s running out of money

Now wait for Nigel to pull a Yaxley-Lennon
They’re picking on me, is what he’s gonna tell ‘em
So please send cash and excuse the indiscretion
Cause Nigel’s running out of money

Billionaires in Submarines

Billionaires in space rockets
Billionaires in submarines
Billionaires gone missing
Send help by whatever means

Billionaires in space rockets
Billionaires in submarines
Meanwhile off the coast of Greece
Are eighty drowning refugees

But billionaires in space rockets
And billionaires in submarines
Throw the switch from “Don’t” to “Care”
On radios and TV screens

Donny

Donny got fired and Donny didn’t like it
Donny was so mad that he organised a riot
Donny stole secrets and kept them in the toilet
And Donny says he wants the job again

Donny got arrested and said he didn’t do it
Donny says politically they’re out to misconstrue it
Reading secrets in the khazi there’s no better place to do it
And Donny says he wants the job again

They All Sent Flowers

They all sent flowers
And all the flowers died
And I understood flowers
For the very first time
A gift of something dying
Gently saying this is normal
We’re all beautiful but fleeting
And this is how it goes

They all sent roses
And all the roses died
Their petals dropping quietly
One at a time
We watched the petals falling
Gently saying this is normal
We’re all beautiful but fleeting
And this is how it goes

They all sent lilies
And all the lilies died
But the scent of the lilies
Stayed around for a while
A gift of something dying
Leaving echoes this is normal
We’re all beautiful but fleeting
And this is how it goes

They all sent flowers
And all the flowers died
Some faded far too quickly
Some others took their time
A gift of something dying
Gently saying this is normal
We’re all beautiful but fleeting
And this is how it goes

Yeah, But Sausages

Yeah, but sausages
Yeah, but bacon
A life without cheese, he said
Is very much mistaken

Yeah, but fowl
Yeah, but beast
I need to feast on the grease
Of the recently deceased

Yeah, but blood
Yeah, but bones
A meal ain’t for real
Without its grunts and its groans

Yeah, but murder
Yeah, but torture
Make it well done between the bun
Of your lunch order

Yeah, but sausages
Yeah, but bacon
The blind eye that’s in the pie
Of which you have partaken

The Sorting Hat

JK Rowling’s sorting hat
Says you’re a boy and that is that
Says some are dog and some are cat
Some are ball and some are bat
Some are tit and some are tat
Some are standing, some are sat
Some are swallowed, some are spat
Some are gloss and some are matt
Some are splash and some are splat
Some you win and some you lose
And it’s the hat that gets to choose

JK Rowling’s sorting hat
Says you’re a boy and that is that
Some are X and some are Y
Some are wet and some are dry
Some are low and some are high
Some are sell and some are buy
Some are sea and some are sky
Some are girl and some are guy
Some you win and some you lose
And it’s the hat that gets to choose

Ten points to Gryffindor, hooray
You’re a boy, now go away
You’re a boy and that is that
Says JK Rowling’s sorting hat