Category: Lyrics

Invading Venezuela

Regime change, like a nappy never pleasant
Happy New Year from the 47th President
Kidnapped in your PJ’s with your missus in tow
No warm welcome in Mar-a-Lago
It’s all helicopters and prison fatigues
Who’d have what Donny wants in times like these
He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup
Only the blood is yours and the oil is too

Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya
Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills

Colombia, Mexico, where is he next to go
Greenland better understand he ain’t afraid of NATO
Afraid of NATO, use your brain
You lot shit the bed when they invaded Ukraine
Yeah, Russia is smilin’, China is smilin’
The dictator roundabout is doing just fine, it’s
A blood for oil swap in a murderous coup
Except the blood is yours and the oil is too

Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya
Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills

Meanwhile in Florida, The Donald’s all smiles
‘Cause no one’s looking at the Epstein files
Feeding the media different trials
Just gotta fly the convict in 2000 miles
But MAGA’s gonna need a big fentanyl high
If they wanna keep turning a MAGA blind eye
He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup
Only the blood is yours and the oil is too

Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya
Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills

Donroe doctrine, don’t care who’s watching
300 billion barrels and Chevron just clocked in
Exxon and Halliburton shares just locked in
All time high on the Dow Jones dropped in
Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay your investor
Your oil company and military directors
He’s swapping blood for oil in a murderous coup
Only the blood is yours and the oil is too

Invading Venezuela, it’s gonna pay ya
Invading Venezuela’s gonna pay the bills

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Sid Vicious

On a stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious
In the days after the Chelsea Hotel
He said I’m running out of time
And I’ve got a story to tell
Of how he went by Simon or sometimes John
And the things mum had done to get by
He spoke of heroin and homelessness
I let him talk and didn’t reply
But then he said that it was Rotten
Who’d first called him Sid
And Rotten is as Rotten does
But it was Malcolm who decided what they did
He looked tired, but he could tell
That there was something on my mind
He paused and looked straight at me
I said, Sid, I’ve got to ask why
Why, he replied, and I wished I’d not started
But he said, spit it out, kid
Why, I repeated, finally
Why the swastikas, Sid?
He looked at his boots and said, you gotta understand
The Pistols had to be a hit
We needed all the shock that we could muster
To shake them all up a bit
Malcolm was a pervert and we were cartoons
The war was over and the bad guys had lost
We made good telly, you know how it is
No one really counted the cost
And it’s not like we were actually Nazis
Just by sporting the kit
Not even Lemmy, he added
And he really loved that shit
Quite the collection of memorabilia
Uniforms, knives, flags and belts
But Lemmy wasn’t a Nazi
He just thought he was better than everyone else
But I’ll tell you this, his voice was fading
I would never wear one now
It was a bit of punk fun in ‘77
But you’ve just got to look around
We had the NF pantomime fascists
In coopted braces and boots
But never politicians and billionaires
Throwing up Nazi salutes
No, I wouldn’t ever wear one now, Sid said
Because someone will wear it and mean it
Don’t tell me you never watch TV
Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it
I would never wear one now, he said
I would never wear one now
One stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious
Though he was long since dead
It was the days after the Chelsea Hotel
And this is what he said

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Model T Music (Slop In/Slop Out)

You are what you read but all you read is your feed
You are what you watch just YouTube and Tiktoks
You are what you listen to, Model T music
Written by robots, use it or lose it

Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out

They sold the lifestyle, you bought the tat
Broken tomorrow, never mind that
They sold the sizzle, but you bought the sausage
Stare at the screen, that’s where the slop is

Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out

You know where this ends
In the arms of your virtual girlfriend

Slop in, slop out, Model T music
Slop in, slop out, Model T music
Slop in, slop out Model T music

A date with Suno, where will you go
She steals the tunes, just so you know
It’s all a remix, Model T music
Written by robots, use it or lose it

Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out
Slop in, slop out

You know where this ends
In the arms of your virtual girlfriend

Slop in, slop out, Model T music
Slop in, slop out, Model T music
Slop in, slop out Model T music

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The Bad Guys Are Winning

You can be a bad guy
And just redact your sins
Or find a new god
Who says that bad guys win

Like Little Tommy
In Trafalgar square
Preaching Hey Jesus
Hey look over there

Tommy singing carols
Saying Jesus is born
To a bunch of far-right racists
Sharing kiddie porn

Like Nigel Farage
His Judaeo-Christian values
What he means is anti-Islam
Those are his rules

The bad guys are winning
Make no mistake
The bad guys are winning
Bad guys on the take

Oh woe is me G Beebees
They’re cancelling Christmas
Like it’s only for white folk
It deliberately missed us

The bad guys are winning
It’s hard to deny it
Even Russell the rapist
Says that God made him try it

The bad guys are winning
Here’s the incoming stitch
They say that God don’t say
That you should tax the rich

Thou shalt not tax the rich
Man shalt not lie with man
Thou shalt not scratch that itch
Or worship Islam

The bad guys are winning
Claiming God on their side
But there ain’t no heaven
For their racist pride

Project 2025
Is only the beginning
Donald’s on the case
The bad guys are winning

Go for the trans folk
And rights for women
It’s a simple formula
The bad guys are winning

Gold leaf in the White House
No votes for women
Everything is binary
The bad guys are winning

Just wait for Donny
His bible and his smile and
Saying he found Jesus
On Epstein’s island

The bad guys are wining
Make no mistake
The bad guys are winning
Bad guys on the take

The bad guys are winning
Claiming God on their side
But there ain’t no heaven
For their racist pride

Nazi Steve Bannon says
Tell them it’s God’s will
Make them scared of immigrants
March up the culture hill

The identity playbook
Don’t need a bible
It knows what it’s opposed
Jesus sue ‘em for libel

Jesus the refugee
From Nazareth in Palestine
Jesus with a cool trick
Turning water into wine

Jesus the refugee
Who gave to the poor
Jesus would say what the fuck
Is nationalism even for

The bad guys are wining
Make no mistake
The bad guys are winning
Bad guys on the take

The bad guys are winning
Claiming God on their side
But there ain’t no heaven
For their racist pride

The bad guys are winning
The bad guys are wrong
If you wanna stop them winning
Just keep singing this song

Don’t let the bad guys win…

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A Song For Suno

Where will the musos go
When Suno makes the tunes
Where will the brushes go
When the artist is AI
Who will make the art
When the robot eats the artists
When the robot is a thief
Then the art is just a lie

Where will the authors go
When the program writes the novels
Who will draw cartoons
When the satire is AI
Who will make the art
When the robot eats the artists
When the robot is a thief
Then the art is just a lie

When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
Who will sing songs by and by
Write the books that make you cry
Paint the most amazing sky
When the art is just a lie

When computers take to stages
In empty concert halls
And galleries are filled
With no feelings at all
How then to be human
When the art is all AI
When the art has no soul
When the art is just a lie

When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
Who will sing songs by and by
Write the books that make you cry
Paint the most amazing sky
When the art is just a lie

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Oh Tommy. F**k Off! – Live at Steve’s House

In Eleanor’s vineyard, Tommy’s on his knees, pretending to pray
He holds his bible upside down and wonders what Charlie would say
His god washed Islamophobic endeavour gains new followers every day
But he’s a coked up criminal grifter who’s going away

And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

You can’t write everybody off, some folk are just taken in
The difference between influenced and influencers is written on the tin
But when the fascists are at the door be sure to not let them in
And he’s a coked up criminal grifter who should be in the bin

And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

Now Jesus of Nazareth was many things
But nationalism won’t win you your angel wings
Your patriotic cross is just so much toss
So you can Oh Tommy Tommy off

When they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

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Peter The Homeless Santa

Peter The Homeless Santa
Plotted up outside the Little Tesco
We exchange the usual banter
But there’s not much room for a Ho, Ho, Ho
He’d be better off in a stable
But stable ain’t what he’s got
Peter The Homeless Santa
Is in his usual spot

Peter The Homeless Santa
Has a beard that’s not exactly white as snow
But it’s gone greyer quicker
Than an indoor beard would go
Peter The Homeless Santa
Is making a list, he’s checking it twice
A tenner would be lovely
A sandwich might be nice

He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets

Peter The Homeless Santa
Gets a wave as people come and go
Some might stop for a few words
But he has no use for mistletoe
Peter The Homeless Santa
No stocking, no Christmas tree
Peter The Homeless Santa
Three missing pay checks could be you or me

He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets

Every Christmas, Santa
Had a gift for me in his sack
So Outside Little Tesco
I try to give Santa a little back

He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets

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The New Austerity Inn: The Budget

Rachel likes astronomy, looking at the stars
Imagining that she can see Jupiter and Mars
In the vast expanse of space, she can contemplate her soul
But in the New Austerity Inn
There’s just a black hole

So, Rachel put the price of the beer up
Rachel put a penny on a pint of ale
Rachel put the price of the beer up
But in the New Austerity Inn
It tastes just as stale

Free beer tomorrow says the sign behind the bar
But today, no brandy, no cigar
You can only have what you can afford
And in the New Austerity Inn
The price has soared

You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
It doesn’t matter that she’s already poured it
You said you’d find another pub, but Rachel ignored it
Saying you can’t have it if you can’t afford it

Rachel put the price of the beer up
Rachel put a penny on a pint of ale
Rachel put the price of the beer up
But in the New Austerity Inn
It tastes just as stale

It’s licensee responsible, the alehouse of the possible
This is what it’s like, she says, when grown-ups run the pub
But if the beer is undrinkable, they’ll drink the unthinkable
In the Old Flag up the road, with Nigel and his club

You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
It doesn’t matter that she’s already poured it
You said you’d find another pub, but Rachel ignored it
Saying you can’t have it if you can’t afford it

Rachel put the price of the beer up
Rachel put a penny on a pint of ale
Rachel put the price of the beer up
But in the New Austerity Inn
It tastes just as stale

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Being English

The sign on the door says a nice woman
And a grumpy old man live here
Around the back a ten foot fence surrounds a garden
In which you sense that they may soon appear
By a shiny new flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our place in the world
But we don’t understand
How all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

It’s not racist, says the grumpy old man
But the basis for his racism is fear
When everything is getting worse and it’s hard to understand
Just blame them lot coming over here
With a shiny new flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
Says the grumpy old man
This is our place in the world
But we don’t understand
How all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

The people round here, says the nice woman
Used to be quite happy with their lot
There were factories and shops and their kids got better jobs
They worked hard for everything they got
Now they’ve got a shiny flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our place in the world
And we’d share it if we can
But all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

At Toad Hall a frog-faced fascist lights a cigarette
Pours a glass of Chablis with a grin
As he sleeps, his assets grow and grow
He owns the houses that other folk live in
He sells them shiny flagpoles and even newer flags
Still flying the creases from their bags

This is his kingdom
This is his green and pleasant land
This is his place in the world
And he fully understands
How all the money that they spend on being English
Makes his England really rather grand

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our world to share
And we need to understand
That the money that we spend on being English
Can make a world for all of us that’s grand

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The Family Business

It goes back a thousand years
Of stamps and coins and souvenirs
A multitude of peers
Holidays as careers
It goes back to the point of the sword
It goes back to the point of it all
Seizing what was common before

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

Andy take the fall
You’ll topple us all
Royals without peasants
Ain’t royals at all
Your heritage won’t be linear
But your lifestyle won’t be chillier
We know paedophilia

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

Owning everything
Being the king
Wearing crowns and all that bling
Listening to that song that they all sing
Stuffing themselves like pigs
Doing god forbids
To other people’s kids

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know

‘Cause it’s the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

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