Six tier one folks can still meet inside It’s the tier where the science and the politics collide Where the rule of six guide stands ready for the slide Over to the hundred in one hundred thousand side
So, we’re standing on the precipice of tier two Sadiq says that it’s coming very soon But I’ve got people to see and things to do While COVID’s turning the screw
Meanwhile there’s a new slogan in tier three Where you can’t have a pint except with your tea It’s like Tim Wetherspoon’s writing policy: Hands. Face. Pasty (and chips).
Oh dear, Rishi You’ve pissed off the people Who like to rhyme Who like tell stories Who like to keep good time
Oh dear, Rishi You’ve pissed off the minstrels The entertainers The chroniclers The maintainers Of the culture Of the hope Of the real story Of our times
Oh dear, Rishi You forgot the golden rule That all that glitters is not gold That money can’t buy you love, Love That value can’t always be measured In pound notes Not even close
Oh dear, Rishi You forgot That we know the words That people sing And people hum That we know the tunes That people whistle And people strum
Rishi Sunak we know a song about you No better than the other Tories in your crew Rishi Sunak, fuck you
EDIT:Full Fact are now reporting that Sunak didn’t say that musicians and other people working in the arts and creative sectors should all re-train and ITV have modified their headline and deleted their tweet accordingly.
But you know what? Fuck him, anyway. The Musicians’ Union recently published a survey of their members which reported that 70% can’t do more than a quarter of their pre-COVID work but 38% of them aren’t eligible for the government’s support schemes. His hands are nowhere near clean.
And let’s not forget Edwina Currie telling LBC’s Iain Dale that “you can’t save all the puppies”.
It’s facemasks at half mast For the coffee guy at the station For better facial aeration For poorer droplet filtration For rules half followed out of frustration And Stanley Johnson ain’t wearing his at all
It’s facemasks at half mast For the woman on the morning train In a sippy cup coffee kinda vein She’s looking at her make-up again Over a blue chin protection membrane And Stanley Johnson ain’t wearing his at all
It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s go exponential It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s get existential
My mask protects you, your mask protects me Round here, it’s what we call solidarity It’s how we show love and respect for one another Sisters and brothers
It’s facemasks at half mast For the fella on the train home Slipped down while he was on the phone Glanced around the carriage and he’s not alone With important communications home And Stanley Johnson ain’t wearing his at all
It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s go exponential It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s get existential
My mask protects you, your mask protects me Round here, it’s what we call solidarity It’s how we show love and respect for one another Sisters and brothers
Spaffer doesn’t understand the rules What rules? Whose rules? His rules For home and work and schools While Stanley Johnson ain’t wearing his at all
It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s go exponential It’s facemasks at half mast Baby, let’s get existential
My mask protects you, your mask protects me Round here, it’s what we call solidarity It’s how we show love and respect for one another Sisters and brothers
It’s been four years (four years!) since the last Protest Family release but finally we’ve got something to share with you that’ll give you an idea of what we sound like these days.
It’s a 100% DIY affair, recorded mostly at my house with some percussion recorded at Andi’s but that said, we’re pretty pleased with the results.
A DIY release comes with a DIY marketing department, of course, and that’s, um, you lot. So do us a favour and tell everyone you know and if you enjoy the EP then tell ’em all again, and if anyone fancies reviewing it then please let us know; someone else’s words always carry so much more weight than ours on occasions such as these.
If you really, really want a copy but finance is an issue, get in touch privately, I’m sure that we can sort something out.
But, by means of whetting your appetites for the next full-length studio album and giving us a chance to talk about the future of the COVID songs, here’s a five-track demo EP that’ll at least give those of you who haven’t seen The Family live recently a flavour of what version 7’s all about.
The master copy went off to the printers this morning, so we should have an announcement for you very soon.
One of the players has got a cough, Boss One of the players has got a cough One of the players, should we take him off Boss? One of the players has got a cough
One of the players is feeling hot, Boss One of the players is feeling hot One of the players, he’s the best we’ve got Boss One of the players is feeling hot Should we take him off?
One of the players lost his sense of smell, Boss One of the players lost his sense of smell One of the players, who should we tell Boss? Whatever you do, don’t tell the EFL, Boss One of the players lost his sense of smell
One of the players is feeling unwell, Boss One of the players is feeling unwell He’s lost his sense of smell, don’t tell the EFL, Boss One of the players is feeling unwell
One of the players is off the pace, Boss One of the players is off the pace Shouldn’t we we do the test and trace, Boss? If one of the players is off the pace
One of the players is burning up, Boss One of the players is burning up There’s a televised fixture coming up, Boss I’m not sure that we’re up for the cup, Boss ‘Cos one of the players is burning up
The fans will have to watch on their screens, Boss The fans will have to watch on their screens If we can’t even keep our hands clean, Boss The fans will have to watch on their screens
Your mum, your dad, your aunt, your nan, The man who drives the Yodel van, Your uncle Bob and his mate, Stan And Hassan who’s from Pakistan Are banned You understand? That gatherings of your loved ones Are limited to six persons The seventh and eighth don’t get to come Unless they’re carrying a gun So, Hassan who’s from Pakistan Your uncle Bob and his mate, Stan The man who drives the Yodel van Your mum, your dad, your aunt and your nan Are all off to a grouse shoot, man.
No, I don’t believe in god she says But I do believe in pestilence and plague You’ve just got to look around these days To see this shit’s man-made There ain’t much left round here that Jesus could save Not while the boom bust cycle of suffer and recover Is long on the suffer and short on recover And the government is just a machine To turn public money into private greed Disaster capital’s here to stay, it seems And I don’t bang on about the furry little fuckers But here’s where I get my angle in ‘Cos no one ever made themselves sick Eating tofu bats And tofu pangolins
No, I don’t believe in god she says ‘Cos I don’t understand a Tory who prays Then goes to work to be the best he can At the very expense of his fellow man Clapping for the NHS on his Facebook page While the boom bust cycle of suffer and recover Is strong on the suffer and weak on the recover And the government is just a means Of giving the public purse a squeeze Into offshore tax-free banking schemes And I don’t bang on about the furry little fuckers But here’s where I get my angle in ‘Cos no one ever made themselves ill Eating tofu bats And tofu pangolins
Is Operation Moonshot The best that you’ve got? Chucking in our lot With a punt on a long shot?
Astronaut Spaffer, it has to be said Is comfortable speaking out the back of his head But a 20-minute test when you get out of bed Sounds like he’s just bet it all on red
Is Operation Moonshot The best that you’ve got? Chucking in our lot With a punt on a long shot?
Cosmonaut Spaffer of the rule of six Reckons he’s got a long-term fix A quick test between toothpaste and lacing up your kicks Trouble is it doesn’t yet exist
Is Operation Moonshot The best that you’ve got? Chucking in our lot With a punt on a long shot?
Starfleet Spaffer’s new COVID marshal Badge and gun, pledge to be impartial Breaking up a seven-plus party in your local Doing it for free, there’s no money on the table
Is Operation Moonshot The best that you’ve got? Chucking in our lot With a punt on a long shot?
Spaceman Spaffer’s shooting for the moon Spit in the pot, you’ll know pretty soon If you’re going back to work or back to your room Are we watching a PM or a cartoon?
Is Operation Moonshot The best that you’ve got? Chucking in our lot With a punt on a long shot?
Steve White & The Protest Family 