Category: COVID-19

Santa is English

It’s been a tough year for bands.

It’s been a tough year for everyone.

We hit some real form with great shows at What’s Cookin’ and The Birds Nest when the curtain unexpectedly fell in March. We girded our loins and learned how to fake a live-but-beaming-in-from-different-locations video, which served us well for a couple of online festivals (and a massive shout out is due here for Joe Solo, Matt Hill and Pete Yen for getting WSO Isolation Festival not only off the ground but out in front of anyone else hosting online festivals, including the big corporates).

As soon as the noose loosened a little, we started the occasional socially-distanced park meeting with instruments and shot our video for the, now online, Tolpuddle Martyrs’ Festival in a little-known Walthamstow beauty spot.

Slightly less restricted again, we were able to just about stay two metres apart in Steve’s house where we played a few online gigs, either live or pre-recorded, and took advantage of the fine summer weather to enjoy each other’s company in the garden over a drink or two.

But then London went from tier two to tier three to lockdown to tier three and now tier four. Face-to-face ain’t happening but undaunted while more than a little disappointed, we thought we’d find out just what we could do together in isolation. Although The debased street music of the vulgar was all recorded at Steve’s house, this track had to be recorded in five houses on equipment ranging from mobile phones to inexpensive USB interfaces, free software and, in some cases, our employer’s laptop (shh!).

So here it is, our Christmas gift to you. We hope you like it. Keep smiling, keep fighting, and we’ll see you in the flesh soon with any luck.

Solidarity, brothers and sisters!

Russ, Lol, Simon, Andi & Steve

P.S. Get your free download here.

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Behave as if You Have the Virus

Behave as if you have the virus, they said.
So, I went back to bed.
They said,
Work from home if you can work from home.
So, I got my work on the phone
And said,
I’ve got the virus
Because they said
Behave as if you have the virus
And if I had the virus
I’d be certain to tell my work on the phone
Who then sent everyone else home,
Because they clearly hadn’t been
Behaving as if they had the virus
Well enough.

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An Eyeful of Nose

Emma was cold and went shopping for clothes
The heating was broken and she nearly froze
But deficient face coverings wherever she goes
Meant all Emma got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

She went to the market for blankets and throws
Cheaper than fixing the boiler I s’pose
But the trader had bad bits of his face exposed
And all Emma got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

She went to the gym for a downward dog pose
Lots of exposed knees and elbows
In communal areas, face covering’s imposed
But all Emma got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

She went to the florist to buy a nice rose
To cheer up her cold flat and brighten shadows
But the florist’s mask was part in repose
And all Emma got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

Past the fire station at the crossroads
The firefighters were out practising with their hose
With facemasks left off to talk on radios
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

She sat on a bench, this rhyme to compose
She’s always preferred a poem to prose
A little tale of face cover ratios
And the day all she got was an eyeful of nose

An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
All Emma got was an eyeful of nose
An eyeful of nose, an eyeful of nose
Emma see noses wherever she goes

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Christmas With the Vulnerables

Mr and Mrs Vulnerable
The nice old dears
Have not seen much of anyone
Since March this year

Except the fella with the Tesco van
The DPD delivery man
Her next door, whose name is Anne
Who dropped them off some beer

But when they heard there was an armistice
For Christmas friends and relatives
They bought a tree and wrapped some gifts
Full of good cheer

It’s Christmas with the Vulnerables
It’s the most wonderful
Time of the year

Now, poor old Mrs Vulnerable
Has a little trouble
With her breathing
But the doctor ain’t seen her

She blames it on advancing years
A health and safety-free career
It’s been the same for all her peers
Who call it emphysema

But she’s invited all the family round
Ordered in a turkey crown
They’ve had a Christmas bubble count
And no-ones got a fever

So, it’s Christmas with the Vulnerables
It’s the most wonderful
Time of the year

They’re reckon it’s OK to ask
Everyone to wear a mask
Don’t want this one to be their last
Christmas (Whamageddon!)

So Little Sal and Baby Dan
Will have to santise their hands
And try hard not to hug their nan
Like biological weapons

Fingers crossed and wish them well
A Christmas with full sense of smell
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Let’s hope they all can get on

It’s Christmas with the Vulnerables
It’s the most wonderful
Time of the year

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Williamson v. Ferrari: Brexit Gambit Declined

Downing Street sources surveyed the board and spied no immediate threat: an announcement of a compromise reached on next year’s exam arrangements, expected to be generally well received except by the it-was-harder-in-my-day crowd and the occasional education analyst pointing out that 24 hours isn’t really much of a delay, and a follow-up on the news that the UK, such as she was clinging to being, was the first to declare a vaccine safe to unleash on a coronavirus-riddled public.

They made their move and slid Williamson, a minor piece, into the affray in the centre of the board. Hushed tones, remembering the “shut up and go away” gaffe, pronounced: “Surely, not even he can fuck this one up”. But fuck it up royally (with sovereignty clearly in mind) he did.

Ferrari, his opponent, countered with “Are we first with the vaccine because we Brexited?”, using the less familiar verbal form. Williamson, wise to the trap that had caught Hancock in an earlier game, avoided it but, in so doing, blundered. “We’re the first because we’re the best” came his Trumpian response, “Better than all those other countries” of which he then went on to name a few key allies.

In Downing Street, heads were shaken and Williamson quietly removed from the board before the lunchtime news.

“Brexit Gambit Declined, and still he fucked it up”.

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On Substantiality and Scotch Eggs

Gove, a hearty trencherman he
Would never accept a scotch egg for his tea
“Two’s a starter!” he would exclaim
When Good Morning Britain called him to explain

But Eustice, a man of lesser appetite
When challenged by Ferrari said that he might
Be tempted to see the tier two appeal
Of a single scotch egg as a substantial meal

And so it came to be in a later edition
The Chancellor of the Dutchy of Lancaster’s position
U-turned, like the worst of the government’s fools
He did not, but said that the pubs knew the rules

Gentle folk of England, such is the fate
Of your taverns and inns, by glass and by plate
Decided by men who can’t even agree
On a simple scotch egg for lunch, dinner or tea

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Christmas Bubble Trouble


Jason and Joanna got Christmas bubble trouble
She wants to see her mum but then her sister’s bubble doubles
And her brother and his girlfriend make another bubble couple
She’s trying to understand the rules

Jason and Joanna got Christmas bubble trouble
He wants to see his dad but it’s gonna be a struggle
‘Cos her side’s already in a Christmas bubble muddle
He’s trying to understand the rules

(Which go like)

You can see her sister if you go round to her mother’s
But that’s already three so now you can’t see her brother
That would need a separate bubble but you can’t have another
What happens if we meet outside?

Jason and Joanna got Christmas bubble trouble
His mum and dad ain’t speaking so that’s something else to juggle
There’s too many pieces in their family Christmas puzzle
They’re trying to understand the rules

Jason and Joanna got Christmas bubble trouble
The tree ain’t even up before negotiations crumble
‘Cos “Are we splitting up for Christmas?” ain’t exactly subtle
When you’re trying to understand the rules

(Which go like)

Three bubbles can behave like they live in the same house
And pass the roast potatoes while passing on the sprouts
But unless they’re only children then there’s someone missing out
What happens if we eat outside?

Three bubbles can behave like they live in the same house
And pass the roast potatoes while passing on the sprouts
But unless they’re only children then there’s someone missing out
What happens if we eat outside?

Jason and Joanna got Christmas bubble trouble
The tree ain’t even up before negotiations crumble
‘Cos “Are we splitting up for Christmas?” ain’t exactly subtle
When you’re trying to understand the rules

They’re just trying to understand the rules

by Categories: COVID-19, Lyrics, SteveTags: , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Cummings, Cain and Princess Nut-Nut

Get out, he said, and never come back
Take your box out of the front door
No sneakin’ out the back
You might’ve got Brexit done
But now you’re getting’ the tin tack
There’s the road to Barnard Castle
I suggest you hit it, Jack

Now Spaffer’s back in self-isolation
With Carrie and Baby Wilf
She doesn’t need to text him ten times a day
Now she’s got him all to herself
He’s phoning in the bluff and bluster
From a comfy sofa in number 10
Arms-length prime ministering, no surprise
We’ve been there once, now we’re doing it again

Get out of here and never come back
Is what I hear he said to Lee Cain
But apparently money’s already changin’ hands
That it won’t be long ‘til he’s back again
Too close to Cummings, too close to home
Don’t say “Princess Nut-Nut” when you’re not alone
‘Cos it might not be such a laugh
When the boss de-blokes the backroom staff

Now Spaffer’s back in self-isolation
With Carrie and Baby Wilf
She doesn’t need to text him ten times a day
Now she’s got him all to herself
He’s phoning in the bluff and bluster
From a comfy sofa in number 10
Arms-length prime ministering, no surprise
They’ll just have to wheel Matt Hancock out again

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From World-Beating to Scraping the Play-Offs

Last night’s TV: Coach JVT
Discussing the psychology
Of match-deciding penalties

Score your first, said Coach Van Tam
And know that you can beat your man
The match ain’t won but you know you can

Last night’s TV: JVT brings news to cheer you up
Avoiding carefully the thing that’s never added up:
Why play-off final winners get to lift a cup

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Tear Down the Fence

Beth’s reading meterology
She’s a first-year undergrad
The first bit of independent living that she’s had
Embarking on a future that includes a cap and gown
Yesterday she found herself locked in the compound
Now the atmosphere in halls is getting pretty tense
And Beth is tearing down the fence

Natasha’s reading history
First time away from home
She never expected to feel quite so alone
Locked down in a flat with students she just met
An education that she’s beginning to regret
The message the past teaches her is self-defence
So, Natasha’s tearing down the fence

Sam’s reading economics
At nine grand a year
Looking forward to a freshers’ week swimming in beer
The virus isn’t news, so he’s not too dismayed
But he never expected to wake up in a stockade
His education’s coming at considerable expense
So, Sam is tearing down the fence

The University of Life
The School of Hard Knocks
Call it what you like, it’s what these kids have got
Locked up and logged in, guards keeping them inside
Learning lessons in life that money just can’t buy
Learning who’s for them and who is against
Learning to tear down the fence

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