Shaun Bailey threw a party on the day they cancelled Christmas Bozo chaired a little quiz, Allegra had a little cry
Shaun Bailey threw a party on the day they cancelled Christmas With a substantial buffet and glasses of wine
Shaun Bailey threw a party on the day they cancelled Christmas Tory donors, Christmas jumpers, party hats if so inclined
Shaun Bailey threw a party on the day they cancelled Christmas Snug up for the pictures, no need to comply
Cos the rules, don’t apply to them You can do what you like behind the doors of number 10 No, the rules don’t apply to them Whatever you do when it comes around, please don’t vote them in again
He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one Carrie’s got a baby and Wilfie’s only one And all the press are saying is, “not another one” He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one
Dead cats, reverse ferrets Dead cats, reverse ferrets
He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one Turns out there were loads while we weren’t allowed a one And he’s running out of mates even at the Currant Bun He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one
Dead cats, reverse ferrets Dead cats, reverse ferrets
He said it didn’t happen But it happened that it happened And it happens that we happen To know that it happened
He said it didn’t happen But it happened that it happened And it happens that we happen To know that it happened
He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one Carrie’s got a baby and Wilfie’s only one And all the press are saying is, “not another one” He’ll need an army of dead cats to get out of this one
Dead cats, reverse ferrets Dead cats, reverse ferrets Dead cats, reverse ferrets Dead cats, reverse ferrets
Work from home if you can work from home Unless there’s a secret Santa party. You’ll need a Covid pass if there’s enough folk But we’re still having Downing Street festives, aren’t we? Cover your face in public venues Unless you’re having cheese and wine And a lateral flow test might suffice But you were never there’s still the party line. Rest assured that everyone follows the guidance At all events that you deny ever happen And double down in faux outrage When you see the clip of Allegra Stratton. Contacts are okay if they test every day, The Emperor’s new clothes are plain to see: Don’t do as I do, do as I say, It’s the 8th day of Advent, here’s Plan B.
Barbara says it’s none of Nick’s business Barbara says it’s her personal choice Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara says both sides need a voice
Barbara’s annoyed that Santa got the vaccine Barbara’s mad at Tesco’s Christmas ad Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara thinks that we’ve all been had
Barbara doesn’t wear a seatbelt Barbara doesn’t always turn the lights on Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara thinks that the science is wrong
Barbara’s careful what she puts in her body Barbara’s ringing up to have a go Barbara’s a bacon-eating anti-vaxxer And Barbara’s ringing up the radio
Not oh-my-cron, little o But ommi-cron, I don’t know Why it should be so, but The alphabet deflects damnation From the variant’s home nation And nu could be confused with new And xi could be confusing too, But Johnson called it omnicron And that is definitely wrong.
Meanwhile Coach JVT Says we’re picking up injury And a yellow card or three. So, to avoid sending offs With persistent coughs He’s bringing on the booster shots And masking up in all the shops And trains and buses, at the stops Unlike his cavalier boss.
But transport’s one thing And shops are another While pubs and restaurants Don’t have to bother. If it’s personal responsibility What happens in hospitality Ain’t the fault of their strategy. “No sir, not us at all!” When it’s all spaffed up the wall.
Now they’re bringing in the army, Calling up the volunteers, Rolling up their sleeves Like antiviral engineers. They haven’t cancelled Christmas (That would be bad for business) Although there have been whispers. Not oh micron, but omicron What could possibly go wrong?
Did you ever while away a childhood hour Imagining your very own superpower? But never able to scratch that itch ‘Cos superpower’s reserved for the super-rich
Batman’s a toff, the stuff he’s got Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot But if the city upped the ante And binned the vigilante They could fund the GCPD Properly (Commissioner Gordon would be proud)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Ironman’s a toff, the stuff he’s got Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot ‘Cos Stark Industries’ A monopoly With sights on the whole defence Industry (He’s got a military industrial complex)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Andrew’s a toff, the stuff he’s got Livin’ off tax paid by you lot Touches who he wants With impunity ‘Cos his superpower’s unaccountability (On account of his mum being Queen)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Our superpower’s sharing, our superpower’s caring Our superpower’s looking out for one another Our superpower’s sharing, our superpower’s caring Our superpower’s looking out for one another
Jacob’s a toff, the stuff he’s got Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot His hedge fund’s laughin’ While other folk are starvin’ His superpower’s alarming, while his wealth he’s guarding (He just doesn’t see poor people)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Hand over the keys to the Batmobile Built by our labour of hand and brain And hand over the iron suit too We don’t want to see your superhero arses round here again
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
If it’s 5-1 down at half-time And one minute to midnight, Then this metaphorical football match Is not in Glasgow tonight. It’s in Russia or Malaysia Or elsewhere in Asia Or Western Australia. And now he’s introduced a Bond-style doomsday device Are you guessing his advice Is doomed to failure? Because COP Number One didn’t get it done, Nor did COP Number Two (’96 in Geneva). The Kyoto protocol did pretty much sod all As a reducing greenhouse gas emission lever. And that was COP3, COP4 had little clout, And COPs 5 to 12 did nothing to write home about. COP 13 said refocus on CO2. COP 14 said give technology to developing economies And COP15, in Copenhagen, said that too. COP16 did little to convince As CO2 levels have risen ever since, And the treaty promised by COP17 Was never seen. So much for green. COP18 in Doha, didn’t get very far, And COP19 had little clout, when nearly everyone walked out. COP20 was in Lima, Peru, And nobody remembers what they resolved to do. The COP21 Paris Agreement said Forget CO2, let’s target temperature instead. COP22 did nothing new, Nor did COP23, actually, And COP24 also did no more. While COP25 in Madrid Just said and did what the others all said and did. So, what’s your aspiration for COP26? With metaphor faffing, Up the wall spaffing, Johnson between the sticks.
COP26, what’s this? COP26, what’s it gonna fix? COP26, just more politics And we’re running out of time.
This flooding is brought to you by Microsoft This wildfire by Sainsbury’s and our friends at Sky This drought by Unilever and some others we forgot We’re saving the planet One multinational at a time
Your speech is sponsored by “blah, blah, blah” Your blind eye by corporate environmental crime It’s greenwash, we know what you are You’re not saving the planet And were running out of time
You’ve got the tarmac, but we’ve got the glue You’re stuck on the motorway, and we’re stuck on it too You can stick your air source heat pump scheme, ‘Cos that just will not do You’ve got the tarmac, but we make the glue!
It’s 2021, and we’re still paying the price As once again enforcement just becomes advice We’re used to Tories doing things that really ain’t that nice But this one, I must admit, came as a surprise
‘Cos they’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea George Eustice reckons it’s okay, environmentally So, if you’re heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
Raw sewage at the seaside isn’t very nice So, there’s a handy sign up to give you this advice You should keep your mouth and nose closed and best shut your eyes too ‘Cos your Tory MP voted for you to bathe in poo
They’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea They’re shitting on the likes of you and the likes of me So, if your heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
In the absence of all reason they put it to the vote To throw shit into the rivers to float amongst the boats Two hundred and fifty Tories put their hands up for the right To fill your local waterway up with shite
They’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea They’re shitting on the likes of you and the likes of me So, if your heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
She pulled him out of the river Fed him, clothed him, found him a home
Cos pulling folk out the river Is the only way she’s ever known
She pulls him out of the river And tomorrow she’ll pull him out again She pulls him out of the river But she’ll never meet the bastards That keep throwing him in
Keep throwing him in
She pulls them out of the river Without ever asking from where they’ve come
Fishing souls out the river And some days her day’s work is never done
She pulls him out of the river And tomorrow she’ll pull him out again She pulls him out of the river But she’ll never meet the bastards That keep throwing him in
Keep throwing him in
She’s fishing souls out the river Seems that’s the way it’s always been
While the soulless bastards in government Keep throwing them in
She pulls him out of the river And tomorrow she’ll pull him out again She pulls him out of the river But she’ll never meet the bastards That keep throwing him in
Keep throwing him in
She’s fishing souls out the river Seems that’s the way it’s always been While the soulless bastards in government Keep throwing us in Keep throwing us in Keep throwing us in
Steve White & The Protest Family 