He’s swapped the royal balcony
For the inside of a cell
He’s given back the Order of St. Olav as well
But while he denies Virginia
To the Thames Valley Police
There will still be no justice
No peace
Air Miles Andy Under Arrest
The Rich Bloke Said Something Racist
The tax dodger said something racist
Straight on the LBC playlist
The numbers are wrong, but it doesn’t matter
The conversation’s when, not if
The conversation’s details
Picking over entrails
Fetching nails, this mood entails
Sacrifice, not very nice
The cost of living versus cost of life
The cost-of-living vs cost of strife
The cost of living carries a knife
They’re losing it
The poor people phone in
Moanin’, groanin’
Lacking serotonin
The rich man threw ‘em a bone in
The damage is done
The money’s having fun
We’re fighting each other
They look after number one
The tax dodger said something racist
The rich man threw them a bone in
The tax dodger said something racist
Normal on the news and on the phone in
The rich bloke said something racist
Racism is back in style
Racism is back in fashion
It has been for a while
The rich bloke said something racist
The money’s having fun
While we fight each other
They look after number one
The tax dodger said something racist
The homeless guy gets abuse
I’ve got a job, what’s your excuse
Why did your mother even reproduce
You don’t produce, you’re no use
How far can his soul reduce
Their ire profuse, they introduce
An imaginary veteran into the equation
More deserving, served his nation
Worthy of praise, adoration
Give the homeless vet a standing ovation
But this deserves examination
Because they ain’t helping him either
The what about – it’s a deceiver
It’s dog eat dog, let’s face it
The tax dodger said something racist
The rich bloke said something racist
Racism is back in style
Racism is back in fashion
It has been for a while
The rich bloke said something racist
The money’s having fun
While we fight each other
They look after number one
Pay attention to what he says next
Says he didn’t mean to cause offence
Not sorry for what he said
He’s sorry that it got in your head
He’s sorry that you might fight it
He’s sorry you might not watch Man United
He’s sorry he misunderstood football
Where an injury to one is an injury to all
But the damage is done
We’re fighting each other
They look after number one
His words are a starting gun
Someone’s countdown has begun
The rich bloke said something racist
Racism is back in style
Racism is back in fashion
It has been for a while
The rich bloke said something racist
The money’s having fun
While we fight each other
They look after number one
Rotting From The Inside Out
You can smell it when he’s about
You can hear it when he opens his mouth to spout
Inanities, insanities, profanities
Racist for a moment then denies it
Crazy idea he blue skies it
Kite flies it
He’s rotting from the inside out
Just look at his hand
To understand
Expanding the brand
It ain’t going to plan
He’s rotting from the inside out
Doesn’t care if his lies are found out
If you tell enough lies the truth dies
And liars thrive
His paedo ally’s
Convenient demise
The make-up’s a thin disguise
He’s rotting from the inside out
We’ll still be here when he’s gone
We’ll still be singing our song
About right and wrong
He’s rotting from the inside out
Not Listening
He outsourced his outrage at his failing living standards to the racists
Subcontracted his fear about his children’s future years to the transphobes
He offset his anger about a council that won’t try
To a campaign against the RNLI
He’s backing Nigel ‘cause he tells him who to hate, when he’s just trying to get by
He farmed out his frustration at house price inflation to Islamophobes
Delegated his dismay on another budget day to deniers of asylum seekers’ rights
He exported consternation at his pub in liquidation
To roundabout and lamppost decorators
He’s backing Nigel ‘cause he tells him who to hate, and who are traitors
He doesn’t empathise ‘cause he doesn’t understand
He doesn’t understand ‘cause he won’t listen
He won’t listen ‘cause no one’s helped his problems go away
He won’t listen ‘cause hears politicians
Not listening every day
Epstein’s Island
Everybody knew, everyone could see
If you were on that island
There was no secrecy
But money buys immunity
Money buys impunity
Money buys redaction
Money buys distraction
Satisfaction of your vilest desires
There will always be suppliers
And all this one requires
As he conspires with your weakness
Is your secrets
Is your meekness
Is your trust me, love me
My best friend Jeffrey
Supplier of debauchery
And girls in the minority
Offered for free
Or offered for a fee
Paid in insider dealing
Pain in inner circle feeling
Paid in the squealing
Blood congealing
Ceiling of society
Where money makes the world go round
Money brings hers tumbling down
Money gives the prince a crown
Money makes the law rebound
Money runs the truth aground
Money makes it all allowed
Money draws the party crowd
Take the grist that’s on the list
And burn it to the ground
I’m on my way to Epstein’s Island
I ain’t on the Lolita Express
I’ve got a can of petrol and a box of matches
And I’m gonna make a mess
When it’s burned to the ground
We can put a fence around
And put everyone on Jeffrey’s list
There to subsist
They won’t be missed
Then we’ll go to Mar-a-Lago
And throw open the doors
Free golf for all the people
Melania giving guided tours
We can shit on golden thrones
Make calls on golden phones
The gold shit that he owns
Now in occupied golden homes
Then SpaceX what the heck
Let’s all go to Mars
When we get back we can all go wild
In battery-operated cars
I’m on my way to Epstein’s Island
I ain’t on the Lolita Express
I’ve got a can of petrol and a box of matches
And I’m gonna make a mess
When it’s burned to the ground
We can put a fence around
And put everyone on Jeffrey’s list
There to subsist
They won’t be missed
Love Orient Hate Racism Scarves
Love Orient Hate Racism. It’s been an important statement to make over the years.
We formed the band in 2009 and two years later played the first Love Orient Hate Racism gig to a packed upstairs room at the Birkbeck Tavern with Corporal Machine & The Bombers and Graham Larkbey. Two years on from that, we took the show – again supported by the indefatigable Larkbey – to the Supporters Club.
We need to do it again.
In the meantime the visibility of Love Orient Hate Racism has grown and grown. Stickers, t-shirts, hoodies; it’s been a pleasure to see people wearing LOHR gear home and away. I started wearing a LOHR t-shirt to every home game a few seasons ago and commissioned the hoodie to make it easier to keep the message visible when the weather gets colder.
Same with the scarf, really. I designed it because I want one. Hopefully, you do too. You can get yours here.
Steve
Epstein O’Clock
It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy
Epstein o’clock for Lord Pete
Epstein o’clock, just like Andy
Soon to live on Used-To-Have-A-Title Street
It’s Epstein o’clock for Petey
Even though he says he didn’t partake
It ain’t much of an entreaty
When you’re selling the secrets of the state
It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy
Hey, Prince of Darkness, it’s Epstein o’clock
Soon for a bunch of very rich bastards
It’ll be Epstein o’clock
Tick, tock
I Ain’t Mad At You
“That’s fine, dude
I ain’t mad at you”
So he thought he’d treat her to
A bullet or two
Maybe the third one killed her
When they denied her medical help
On the day the USA
Turned the gun on itself
They pepper sprayed him
But it wasn’t enough
For trigger happy agents
High on acting tough
His last words “Are you okay”
To the woman that he helped
On the day the USA
Turned the gun on itself
Smart uniforms, microphones
And blatant lies
Middle class protesters
Threatened agent’s lives
The world watched in horror
At what could’ve been themselves
On the day the USA
Turned the gun on itself
When the price you pay for freedom
Is a classroom of dead children
Your second amendment rights
Viewed through iron sights
The way you see yourself
On the day the USA
Turned the gun on itself
On the day the USA
Turned the gun on itself
Minnesota So Cold
Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota
Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota
Oh Lord, so cold, Minnesota
Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where George was killed
These streets, oh Lord, still feel the chill
These streets, oh Lord, where George was killed
Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where he shot Renée Good
These streets, oh Lord, just because he could
These streets, oh Lord, where he shot Renée Good
Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
These streets, oh Lord, where they gunned Alex down
These streets, oh Lord, shot him on the ground
These streets, oh Lord, where they gunned Alex down
Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord
The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord
The sun’s gonna shine on Minnesota, oh Lord
Minnesota, oh Lord, so cold
Steve White & The Protest Family 