Unlucky Street

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Tags in the litter
A mattress in the river
Stand and deliver
Throw up a pigeon’s dinner

On front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Robbery’s a failure
Antisocial behaviour
Jesus Christ our saviour
Do us all a favour

Tags in the litter
A mattress in the river
Stand and deliver
Throw up a pigeon’s dinner

On front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

by Categories: Lyrics, poetry, SteveTags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

Noah

He had his head turned in a time that we forgot
He had his head turned, flattered by God
God said you’re the best of ‘em
Forget about the rest of ‘em
Build yourself and ark and let the bastards drown
Build yourself and ark and let the bastards drown
Build yourself and ark and let the bastards drown

God said Noah a hard rain’s gonna come
God said creation will be undone
So build yourself an ark
Build it big and smart
Build yourself an ark and let the bastards drown
Build yourself an ark and let the bastards drown
Build yourself an ark and let the bastards drown

Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
It’s 22 miles and we’re sinking fast

The animals came in two by two
The elephant and the kangaroo
Roo said my sister
Please save her mister
Noah said no, we’re gonna let the bastards drown
Noah said no, we’re gonna let the bastards drown
Noah said no, we’re gonna let the bastards drown

Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
It’s 22 miles and we’re sinking fast

The people heard that Noah was planning his escape
The people heard that Noah had left them to their fate
The people stormed the ark
And started to embark
What shall we do with Noah, shall we let the bastard drown
What shall we do with Noah, shall we let the bastard drown
What shall we do with Noah, shall we let the bastard drown

Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
It’s 22 miles and we’re sinking fast

The people stormed the ark, there was plenty inside
There was a little rain but no rising tide
They sang it’s always better
When we all work together
And there’s no need to ever let a single bastard drown
And there’s no need to ever let a single bastard drown
And there’s no need to ever let a single bastard drown

Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah Noah won’t you let us on the ark
Woah oh Noah won’t you let us on the ark
It’s 22 miles and we’re sinking fast
It’s 22 miles and we’re sinking fast

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Benny Greene

In the year of Our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Six
Young Benny Greene’s up to old tricks
Brewing beer in the sticks with old Billy Buck
He’s about to come into some luck

‘Cause Benny’s old neighbours, Sir Pat and Lady B
Got into a jam, needed a guarantee
Right place, right time, Billy said please
And the plantation owners handed over the keys

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

Now Benny the brewer’s a slave owner too
A slave owner’s wealth is his to accrue
Arguing the toss in the local rag
That slavery ain’t so bad

But the people of Bury got fed up with Benny Greene
So he left young Eddie to run the brewery
And set up a West India company instead
The labour of slaves now his daily bread

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

All good things lamented Benny Greene
When abolition came in 1833
But it turned out business barely took a hit
‘Cause there was compo, really quite a bit

You see, the thing about compensation in those days
Is it went to the owners and not the slaves
So they worked on the plantation, still engaged
But this time on a minimum wage

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

While Eddie took the brewery and merged with Freddie King
Charlie went to St Kitts to do his thing
In all the pleasures of a slaver did he partake
Leaving thirteen bastards in his wake

Eddie became a Tory MP
Deputy Lieutentant and a JP
Master of the hunt, he would speak at great length
And the brewery went from strength to strength

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

The business passed on to Walter Greene
Fortuitously born at the brewery
Hunting, driving and sailing yachts
While Lake built an empire ne’er to be forgot

The biggest brewer now in the UK
But there are reparations to be paid
For old Benny Greene’s slavery days
Not forgetting Charlies wayward ways

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

The good folk of St Kitts have come to collect
The good folk of St Kitts say never forget
Put down your IPA and listen to their tale
There’s more than hops and barley in the story of your ale

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

Put down your IPA and listen to their tale
There’s more than hops and barley in the story of your ale

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St Kitts and Nevis vs Greene King

Much to Catherine and Thomas’ disgust
Benny liked keeping a slave
They thought that abolition was just
He thought they should just behave


In fact, Benny liked keeping slaves so much
He purchased his local paper
And ran articles, polemics and such
About how he’d done slaves a favour


They’re much better clothed
And much better housed
And much better fed
The Herald espoused
Than your average English labour


He’d met Buck in the chapel
And they’d set about brewing beer
For the good, the great and the rabble
Of Bury St Edmunds, in the year


Of Our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Six
Old ale and porter too
And when The Blake’s found themselves in a fix
It was Benny who came through


And said, I’ll manage your plantations
In Monserrat and St Kitts
And many generations of Greenes
Will reap the benefits


His business grew, his chattels too
And though he found trafficking abhorrent
Keeping slaves, he’d happily pursue
As necessity, so he’d warrant


He fought the passage of The Slave Trade Act
Even quoting The Bible on occasion
And by 1833 he’d attract
Libel action, to his frustration

And so, three years later, he was off to the City
Leaving Edward to brew the beer
The compensation for freedom, more’s the pity
Going to Benny, not the slaves, it’s clear


Half a million in today’s money
Is what ol’ Benny got
While the freed slaves, not so lucky
Well, they got not a lot


And the wages on the plantations
That the freed slaves were now making
Never matched the profits or remunerations
That the Greene family were taking


And while Edward was running the brewery
Young Charles went out to St Kitts
Able, but with much tomfoolery
He left behind thirteen kids, the family now admits


All of whom were born illegitimately
As discovered by Sir Hugh Carleton Greene
Himself director of the BBC
And a great-nephew of Charlie Greene


(The novelist, Graeme Greene
Was another who carried the gene)


Now the good folk of St Kitts and Nevis
Frustrated by our government’s hesitation
Have said to Greene King, you owe us this
We demand our reparation


For the slavery days of Benny Greene
The money that he made
4.6 billion in 2019
Once off the backs of slaves


So, put down your pint of IPA
And listen to their tale
There’s more than hops, yeast and barley
In the story of your ale

by Categories: poetry, SteveTags: , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Refugees’ Luggage

They came with orders
And transporters
Souls with borders
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

Tentative roots in a new community
Ripped out fast with the impunity
Of cruelty to the refugee
Being Party policy
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

From one uncaring mean hotel
To the next uncaring mean hotel
No pleased as man with man to dwell
No fond farewell
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

What you can carry’s what you can bring
What’s left behind you know they’ll sling
Don’t you dare say a fucking thing
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

And all that’s left is the refugees’ luggage
That the hotel will throw in the bin
This is England this is right now
These are the fascists that you voted in

Full story here

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Unambiguous Shoes

He wears flat-fronted trousers
And unambiguous shoes
He wears a watery stare
His sour breath hints of booze

He doesn’t like your poetry
And he wants you to know
He doesn’t like your words
Your meter or your flow

With prodding finger, spit-fringed lips
His ire is plain to see
It’s not your prodding rhymes
It’s your ideology

He despairs of modern life
But is disinclined to change
He despairs there’s little to be gained
From this ugly exchange

But the poet knows that friction
Makes the sparks that light a fire
And unambiguous shoes
Will just walk his craft higher

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Being a Princess Ain’t a Job

On your own is not a mob
Neat and tidy ain’t a slob
A perfect sphere is not a blob (or a glob)
Looking up is not a snob
Shortened Richard isn’t Bob
A sticking plaster ain’t a swab
A bread roll is not a cob*
A single pulse is not a throb
A fast ball is not a lob
Quietly spoken ain’t a gob
Me in it thou shalt not dob
The grill or oven ain’t a hob
The same suit’s king is not his nob
A giggle clearly ain’t a sob
Being a princess ain’t a job

*Yeah, I know

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