If not all men are rapists
And not all whites are racists
Why’s the loudest shouting out
Far too much of what about
And not enough of something’s got to change?
Because if not all men are rapists
And not all whites are racist
Then they should actually say this
That some of us are racists
And some of us are rapists
And something round here has got to change.
Like a stopped clock, we kept Piers around
For the odd occasion on which he was right
But knock, knock, it was bound to come on top
And good morning Britain, the cock has taken flight
Now he’s throwing in his lot with the Foxes and the Youngs
Claiming free speech and foul with his forked tongue
And he’ll take his tirade to the anti-woke brigade
And take up sword and shield in Toby’s parade
Knock, knock
We can hear you
Knock, knock
We can still hear you
Knock, knock
We can hear you
You’re tweeting that you’re cancelled, but we can still hear you
Knock, knock
(We’re just choosing not to listen)
Joanne’s got a plan, in which she defines a man
And cancelleramous, there goes another fan
Even Potter can’t stop her now the plots gone bad
And it don’t please her there’s a reader who now wished they never had
Knock, knock
We can hear you
Knock, knock
We can still hear you
Knock, knock
We can hear you
You’re tweeting that you’re cancelled, but we can still hear you
Knock, knock
(We’re just choosing not to listen)
And Laurence lost stock when he got a Twitter block
From a Lewis co-star who thought he was a cock
Shouldn’t be a shock and we should probably thank her
Not on this Fox’s side, he’s an All Lives Matter wanker
Knock, knock
We can hear you
Knock, knock
We can still hear you
Knock, knock
We can hear you
You’re tweeting that you’re cancelled, but we can still hear you
Knock, knock
We can hear you
Knock, knock
We can still hear you
Knock, knock
We can hear you
You’re tweeting that you’re cancelled, but we can still hear you
We’re just choosing not to listen
Knock, knock
You can buy a trip to Mars
With three billion Mars bars
But Dido does a million and a half a day
On her defective track and trace,
That’s enough for every homeless person in the UK
To eat six Mars bars a day.
But if the corporations paid their tax
The homeless would have to give some Mars bars back,
‘Cos they wouldn’t be able to take away
Nearly six hundred bars a day.
In fact, take the tax from the corporate trousers
And just build chocolate and nougat houses.
By the time you got to the 28th
They’d could all live on a Mars bar estate,
Somewhere out in Essex
That they could nibble on if they’re peckish.
Week after week
They clapped their hands
And banged their pans
From rainbow bedecked windows
And cars and vans.
Hundreds of thousands
Acting with care, thought, and precision
Led to this decision.
“The NHS saved my life” Spaffer said
But what he meant
Was all they’re worth to him is one percent.
And Hancock,
Responsible personally
To the horse racing fraternity,
Pays tribute with words,
His deep pockets reserved
For contracts for corporate chums.
“Get out there and tell them you saved lives” he said
But what he meant
Was all they’re worth to him is one percent.
Nadine “I’m a former nurse, me” Dorries,
The first Covid MP,
Seeks to defend the economy.
Never surprised
By an MP’s pay rise,
But with Rishi is in accord
That this is all they can afford
While recognising sacrifice, commitment and vocation
Tells the nation
What she meant
Was all they’re worth to her is one percent.
When they tell you “level up”
What do they mean?
The numbers dead hid behind
A vaccination screen.
No money for heroic nurses’ pay
When Dido’s folly costs a million pounds a day.
There is a simple message delivered in this verse:
Next time, clap a Tory, pay a nurse.
“3-0 up” says JVT
“Do not wreck this now”
I thought for a second he was talking to me
But he was talking to Spaffer, obviously.
Anyhow,
He’s seen ’em lost 4-3.
Spaffer’s got a roadmap
And Keith likes it
A hearty virtual backslap
‘Cos Keith likes it
It’s cautious and irreversible
And Keith likes it
It’s economically purposeful
But educationally unworkable
And Keith likes it
When it comes to dealing with disease
Keith will always aim to please
Even if you’re on your knees
Keith will always say what he sees
And Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Matt’s got money for his mates
And Keith likes it
Despite the legal mess that it makes
Keith likes it
Priti is waving her flag
And Keith likes it
It’s a look at my patriotism brag
That plays well in the daily rag
And Keith likes it
When it comes to dealing with disease
Keith will always aim to please
Even if you’re on your knees
Keith will always say what he sees
And Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
Keith likes it
An American friend pinned on a poppy
In fancy dress as an Englishman
Why? said I, well you guys fetishise
That World War Two generation
But only the war bit, man
American friends call us Brexitland
And Australian friends call us Plague Island
While Dr Chris got slapped down rude
Ordering Mexican food
And then Roger died
And all I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
An American friend coined Pandexit
Said it’s a matter of time before your man says it
Said you guys like a portmanteau
Like no one else in the world, bro
And then Cush died
And all I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
All I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
An American friend laughed last and longer
Getting over the line on election day
While the combined archbishoprics
Of Canterbury and York
Called for time to reflect and pray
And then Simon died
And all I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
All I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
American friends call us Brexitland
And Australian friends call us plague island
So Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
Free stuff Jesus, won’t you lend us a miracle
All I wanna be is somewhere
Where I can order a drink
A company called Efficio won an NHS contract
Worth six billion pounds, they say,
While the fella that owns the company that owns them
Bunged seven hundred grand the Tory Party’s way.
A nice little payday for Mr Kolade.
While Scott Fletcher, care of Lowry Trading
Donated a quarter of a million quid, no less.
His reward, about which we are complaining:
IT cloud contracts for the NHS.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.
There’s Meller Designs supplying PPE,
Although their normal range is home and beauty
Of millions: A hundred and sixty-three, procedure free,
Courtesy of the DHSC.
And in return for government contract offers,
Mr Meller’s donations to Tory Party coffers.
Three hundred and fifty million to Medacs Healthcare.
You’ll find a familiar Tory Party figure there.
Its Michael Ashcroft, former Conservative peer
Who’s donated over six million pounds in his career.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.
Globus (Shetland) Limited
Got ninety-three million for FFP3’s
“Should we double our donation to the Tory Party?”
Well, we reckon that the answer was “Yes, please”.
No surprise that Agustsson, king of PPE
Eats with the Leader’s Group society.
And computers for kids doing lockdown learning,
Do you reckon there’s a tory donor in there earning?
Correct! You were safe to assume
That Computacenter founder Philip Hulme
Supported Nick Herbert, Conservative MP
From 2009 to 2019
While wife Janet donated a hundred grand too
To the campaign to keep the country voting blue.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round
Because when you say “Pandemic”, they say “Profit”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
Who’s gonna make the Tory Party stop it?
There’s blood on the hands of Boris Johnson
Blood on the hands of Dominic Cummings
Blood on the hands of Therese Coffey
Who says that we’re all to blame
There’s blood on the hands of Matt Hancock
Blood on the hands of Dominic Raab
Blood on the hands of Boris Johnson
For whom it’s always been a game
If most of the people follow most of the rules
Most of the rules most of the time
When the rule makers blame the rule breakers
Whose is the greater crime?
One zero zero
Zero zero zero
He’s sticking firmly to his line
On mistakes, now is not the time
There’s blood on the hands of Boris Johnson
Blood on the hands of Priti Patel
Blood on the hands of Gavin Williamson
And Duncan Smith’s hands as well
If most of the people follow most of the rules
Most of the rules most of the time
When the rule makers blame the rule breakers
Whose is the greater crime?
One zero zero
Zero zero zero
He’s sticking firmly to his line
On mistakes, now is not the time
Steve White & The Protest Family 