No ads for Maccy D’s before bedtime
No BOGOF on Pringles or Mars Bars or any of that
But that’s not even this evening’s headline
Whatever you do, don’t cough over your cat
Spaffer’s a stone down and fat shaming the nation
Clamping down on promotion of food high in sugar and fat
Obligatory labels for cafes in new legislation
And whatever you do, don’t cough over your cat
He says we owe it to the NHS to keep our weight healthy
I suspect he owes them a bit more than that
Start with 350 million a week, maybe
And please don’t cough over your cat
There are complex ethnic and socioeconomic factors
At play here, but despite all of that
The fight against the virus starts a new chapter
With advice to not cough over your cat
They gathered in their hundreds in sunny Hyde Park
Their patriotic faces free to feel the breeze
One man had cut the middle out of his mask
They’re here to Keep Britain Free
They’re gathered here to protest about the mask
They don’t like being told, would prefer to be asked
Because it’s an impingement on their civil liberty
That’s no way to Keep Britain Free
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Her protest banner has been replaced
By sexy undercrackers made out of black lace
And Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
If the government thought it was right, she asks
Then that’s what they should’ve said from the start
There’s important scientists saying there’s no need
It’s more important to Keep Britain Free
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Her protest banner has been replaced
By sexy undercrackers made out of black lace
And Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Face nappies, muzzles, she won’t take part
Cassie Sunshine won’t wear a mask
Cassie Sunshine wants to Keep Britain Free
Thankfully Cassie’s in a minority
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
Her protest banner has been replaced
By sexy undercrackers made out of black lace
And Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
And Cassie Sunshine is wearing a g-string on her face
A masked man walks into a bar
Just another day in the New Rose & Crown
It’s the pub of the damned, he orders a beer and sits down
He contemplates life and the new rules
Where everybody’s encouraged to go back to work and go back to school
Where one metre plus means you have to cover your face
That’s how he’s ended up coming in masked to this place
He looks from his beer to his mask and from his mask to his beer
As it all becomes frustratingly clear
That the logic of this thing just doesn’t make any sense at all
A masked man walks into a bar
It’s neat, neat, neat from all that pre-opening cleaning
It’s the pub of the damned, just with better housekeeping
He orders a pint of beer and sits down
While he ponders the end of the lockdown
And he asks himself what is a pub if it’s not a shop that sells live booze
And if you’re gonna have to wear a mask in a supermarket what’s boozer got to lose?
He looks from his beer to his mask and his mask to his beer
As Johnson’s muddied message fails to become clear
And the logic of this thing doesn’t make any sense at all
A masked man walks into a bar
Orders a large whiskey while he’s waiting for the blackout
There’s plenty of room inside not that many people out
It’s the pub of the damned and he just can’t be happy today
And they wouldn’t even take his cash when he tried to pay
He picks up his paper and reads in the comments
That your mask does nothing except to give you confidence
He looks from his whiskey to his mask and his mask to his whiskey
And there’s a world of handshakes that he still can’t see
And the logic of this thing doesn’t make any sense at all
I thought that the COVID-19 songs could do with starting before the Quarantine the Queen and should probably introduce Joanna and Jason earlier, so here they are pre-lockdown in times we would have referred to as normal.
Joanna’s in the kitchen
Chopping onions, peeling garlic
Watching the news by the way
Deserted streets, men in hazmat suits
In a city far, far away
She’s got carrots and celery
A good sauce to hide veg in
Wuhan or something like that
Looking like a scene in a disaster movie
She couldn’t point to on a map
Jason puts the kettle on
It’s too early for wine
He might save it for the weekend anyway
Says what’s that you’re watching love?
It all looks a bit doomsday
Pandemics happen to other people
Other cultures, other countries
Something about the way they live, I guess
Without trying to put it bluntly
It must be dreadful but they’re not like us
I’m not sure we’d make such a fuss
It’s like something you’d watch on TV
And it’s spaghetti Bolognese for tea
She’s frying off the mince
There’s a tin of tomatoes
And a stock cube ready on the side
The broadcaster’s voice remains calm
About how many could die
Jason’s looking at his Huawei phone
If he’d open the bottle
She’d have a glass of wine
Remember that bird flu
And the panic about that at the time?
Pandemics happen to other people
Never here and not like that
Something about the way they live, I guess
Like some people eat dog or even cat
It must be dreadful but they’re not like us
And I’m not sure we’d make such of a fuss
It’s like something you’d watch on TV
And it’s spaghetti Bolognese for tea
That’s not normal and our lives are
That’s why we’re watching it from afar
There’s nothing to fear
It couldn’t happen here
Shall we eat in front of the TV?
It’s spaghetti Bolognese for tea
Spaffer fired the starting pistol
On Super Spreader Saturday
Get out and spend your money folks
The pubs are opening today
We don’t know what the R-rate is
But we’ll tell you later
Cos our mates at Deloitte
Own all the data
The landlord with bunting his pub festoons
And Super Spreader Saturday balloons
For the brave, the reckless, the immunes
So Derek is heading off to ‘Spoons
Spaffer cried schools out for summer
On Super Spreader Saturday
A haircut, a haircut, my kingdom for a haircut
The barbershop is open today
We don’t know what the R-rate is
But we’ll let the pub open its door
‘Cos we don’t know what the rules are either
Or even what the rules are for
The landlord with Perspex his pub festoons
And Super Saturday disinfectant fumes
For the illusion that normality resumes
And Derek is heading off to ‘Spoons
If you think they’re stupid, look what the polls now say
About the likelihood of a second wave
The numbers don’t lie and they’ll make you shudder
We’re now more likely to blame each other
The landlord with Perspex his pub festoons
And Super Saturday disinfectant fumes
For the illusion that normality resumes
And Derek is heading off to ‘Spoons
Derek’s slagging off the Germans
Derek’s bursting with national pride
He doesn’t want us to be the worst ‘uns
He doesn’t want to count how many died
Derek’s slagging off the Germans
Derek reckons they’re due a second wave
He’s a flags and statues kinda person
With a blind eye for the failing UK
Derek’s slagging off the Germans
It’s patriotic, he explains
It’s your country of birth that determines
Who you support come what may
Derek’s slagging off the Germans
And women too by using that phrase
It’s another of Derek’s little sermons
And Angela’s getting it both ways
And I don’t suppose Derek will ever see
A pragmatic centrist such as she
Is exactly the politician that he craves
If he could only see past the flag he waves
Derek’s slagging off the Germans
Derek voted conservative
Derek’s vote helped determine
The pandemic mess that we’re now in
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Dominic to take a knee
Or any of the three with PPE
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Jacob not to take a nap
Or any of that world beating crap
You can’t trust anything they do or say
I never trusted Tories anyway
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Dominic with an eyetest
You can’t trust Priti in the slightest
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Rishi with the dinero
Or any of that world-beating crap
Ideology or incompetence, you choose
Whichever way your coin toss lands
It’s heads they win and tails you lose
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Michael with anything vital
Or any of that world-beating crap
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Gavin with your schools
You can’t trust this cabinet of fools
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Grant, you just can’t
And none of that world-beating crap
You can’t trust anything they do or say
I never trusted Tories anyway
You can’t trust Bozo to squash a sombrero
You can’t trust Matt with an app
You can’t trust Michael with anything vital
Or any of that world-beating crap
Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom
Farmer Steve offered his assistance
But Farmer Steve encountered resistance
Farmer Steve said there’s a safer way
But Farmer Dom told him to go away
Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom
Farmer Larry said I can help too
You don’t need to do anything brand new
But Farmer Larry’s help stayed on the shelf
Cos Farmer Dom wants the harvest to himself
Here’s Farmer Dom and his field full of data
Gather it all up, sell it on later
But Farmer Dom’s harvest went wrong
Cos nobody trusts Farmer Dom
Steve White & The Protest Family 