Category: Lyrics

(They’re Eating The) Swans

They’re eating the swans says Derek
They’re eating the swans in the Royal Park
Shut up Derek says Margaret
Stop being so daft

I heard it this morning on LBC
Where nothing is true so anything could be
In Clacton, it’s Derek’s take
That fake news is real, and real news is fake

When the MP shares a racist trope
The MP’s that kinda racist bloke
An MP who shares a racist hoax
Then covers his tracks with a just misspoke

Tropes to cover his tracks
Avoiding questions about his tax
And callers on the phone
Asking whose money paid for his Clacton home

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

Meanwhile across the pond
The stories correspond
They’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats
Are Donny’s version of the facts

Dropping racist bombs
Makes you wonder where Nigel gets it from
A taxi driver he says
Is where he gets his facts these days

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

They’re bringing in shariah law, says Derek
I heard it on LBC
Nigel’s taxi driver says so
And who am I to disagree

They’re eating the swans says Derek
It’s our MP’s hot take
When nothing is true in Clacton
Fake news is real and real news is fake

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be…..

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Oh England (Can You Tell Me Where It Hurts?)

This land of riches, this land of rags
This land of lampposts and angry flags
Of roundabouts and hasty tags
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

This land of swine, this land of pearls
This land of violence ‘gainst women and girls
This land that squints out at the world
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

The pain is real
The pain is there
The pain you feel
The pain’s unfair
When you feel there’s nowhere left to turn
History has a lesson
You need to learn

Is it the hours and days on hold
The choice of hunger or of cold
Just the sheer lack of control
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

Is it the blank-faced lawyer and his blank-faced crew
Paralysed without a clue
When they say they know what to do
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

The pain is real
The pain is there
The pain you feel
The pain’s unfair
When you feel there’s nowhere left to turn
History has a lesson
You need to learn

This land of hope and former glory
Rich colour in the nation’s story
By land and sea and century
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

This land of wider still and wider
Shrinking in the light of day
Of awkward empire pride and shame
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

This land of drawbridges and moats
This land of pointless wasted votes
This land obsessed with small boats
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts
Oh England, can you tell me where it hurts

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Shot With Guns

It’s their Second Amendment right, they say
To carry a gun
Just in case they feel the need
To shoot someone
The price they pay, they say
For carrying guns
Is quite a long list
Of shot someones

There goes another one
There goes another one
On the long list of someones
Shot with guns

This one’s name was Charlie
Not a nice chap
But not nice ain’t no reason
To get shot at
On tour with his horror show
And on the MAGA cheque
Poor old Nasty Charlie
Got one in the neck

There goes another one
There goes another one
On the long list of someones
Shot with guns

They’ve got school shootings
They’ve got mall shootings
They’ve got police shootings
They’ve got belief shootings
They’ve got fear shootings
They’ve even got ear shootings
And a long list of someones shot with guns

There goes another one
There goes another one
On the long list of someones
Shot with guns

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The Flag

The news is vile, the comments worse
This septic isle is in reverse
They say there’s debt to reimburse
While rich folk rob the public purse

Their greed exceeds your hour of need
While leaders short in word and deed
Let the reins of power concede
To a frog-faced smoking man in tweed

And the trick they play they say the flag is yours
Flown at one world cup and two world wars
A tawdry cross daubed across any old white rag
I’ll never swear allegiance to the flag

They’ll have you pledge a sacred vow
They’ll take salutes, you scrape and bow
Forbid what they do not allow
So long as you do not ask how

They got there and you got here
With cigarettes and pints of beer
From school to stock market career
You know it’s clear, you know it’s fear

And the trick they play they say the flag is yours
Flown at one world cup and two world wars
A tawdry cross daubed across any old white rag
I’ll never swear allegiance to the flag

It ain’t our flag, it’s handed down
By billionaire, state and crown
It ain’t our flag for taking back
Our colours include brown and black
It ain’t our flag loaded with fear
It ain’t our flag, it won’t fly here

And the trick they play they say the flag is yours
Flown at one world cup and two world wars
A tawdry cross daubed across any old white rag
I’ll never swear allegiance to the flag

And the trick they play they say the flag is yours
Flown at one world cup and two world wars
A tawdry cross daubed across any old white rag
I’ll never swear allegiance to the flag

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Bring Back The Dancing Coppers

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street
Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back giving a fuck about each other
Bring back understanding
Whose wealth is expanding

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street

Paul lives in a country
With no parliament or king
His flag has no status
Except with racists and their kin
Paul lives in a country
Where even the roundabouts are white
His crusade’s embarrassing
And not a pretty sight

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street

You can join Reform UK
But don’t get excited
The party’s for the very rich
And you ain’t invited
Reform FC is not a team
You want to bet your life on
Nigel’s not the football type
His word can’t be relied on

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street

Bring back the experts
Bring back the truth
Facts don’t have another side
For anyone to choose
Bring back the right questions
Bin the clickbait and the quotes
None of your problems
Arrived here on small boats

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street

If you fly the flag to intimidate
If you sneak it up at night
If you fly it to say you’re not welcome here
If you fly it out of spite
Then you don’t fly the flag for me
You don’t fly the flag for this country
You fly it for the fascists
And we will tear it down

Bring back the dancing coppers
Bring back community
Bring back using lampposts
Just the light the street

If you fly the flag to intimidate
If you sneak it up at night
If you fly it to say you’re not welcome here
If you fly it out of spite
Then you don’t fly the flag for me
You don’t fly the flag for this country
You fly it for the fascists
And we will tear it down

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Breaking Britain

They’re hanging flags on the lampposts of Breaking Britain
They’re painting the roundabouts red
The concerned mums of Epping are lighting fires
While Bobby’s on the beach winding up their suppliers
They’re kicking the refugees out of The Bell
Next thing they’ll wanna kick you out as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

A oner gets you Farage on a football shirt
But the flag is flying upside down
Nicky did a Trump dance and a fascist salute
He’s off to Liverpool in a too small suit
Anti-immigrant poison is what they sell
Next thing they’ll wanna poison you as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

They’re breaking Britain with division
They’re breaking Britain with derision
They’re breaking Britain with hate for a scapegoat mate
And making a pretty penny while they’re at it too
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

While Both Sides Sheila argues both sides
Not all nazis are nazis she opines
Not sure I’d want asylum seekers down my street
She’s down with the othering of not like me
And the high street is some lawless kind of hell
Next thing the law will come for you as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

Kier looking on without a clue, he’s breaking Britain
Rachel in the wings without a penny for you, she’s breaking Britain
Kemi trying to be the baddest of the bad, she’s breaking Britain
Nigel the worst MP Clacton ever had, he’s breaking Britain
He’s breaking Britain

They’re breaking Britain with division
They’re breaking Britain with derision
They’re breaking Britain with hate for a scapegoat mate
And making a pretty penny while they’re at it too
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

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We All Deserve A Chance

I was chattin’ to a bloke at the bar
Of The New Austerity Inn
He said, I’m not a racist but
I guess that he was six pints in
He said, how bad could it be
When they’re all the bloody same
Politics to them
Is just a bloody game

And I’m not playin’
I’m just sayin’
That Nigel deserves a chance

He finished up his pint and said
Let’s have another round
It used to be alright in here
But this lot are just clowns
And I’m just bloody sick
Of all this bloody woke
A bad pint and a cigarette
That they won’t let me smoke

So I’m not playin’
I’m just sayin’
That Nigel deserves a chance

(I thought for a minute….)

Give Nigel a chance, I said
I hear what you’re sayin’
Something’s got to change
But Nigel ain’t a price worth payin’
‘Cause the pub will open longer
But the staff just won’t get paid
And the punters will be skinter
So there’ll be even less trade
And the beer will be just as stale
And probably even worse
‘Cause he prefers his wine to ale
The pub banter’s rehearsed
And the NHS will not be free
You’ll buy it from his mates
And he’ll still blame the migrants
While it’s billionares that take

So, I’m not playin’
I’m just sayin’
We all deserve a chance

To stick together
To understand
What we have in common
With our fellow man
We’ll nationalise the billionaires
We’ll confiscate their yachts
100% inheritance tax
And we’ll all share all the lot

Yeah, I’m not playin’
I’m just sayin’
We all deserve a chance

(And you wanna know how I got on…)

I was chattin’ to a bloke at the bar
Of The New Austerity Inn
He said, I guess I hear you
But the common man can’t win
When politics to them
Is just a bloody game
I said if we spit together
We can drown them all the same

And I’m not playin’
I’m just sayin’
That we all deserve a chance

Let’s stick together
Let’s spit together
‘Cause we all deserve a chance

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Genocide In Your Living Room

There’s a genocide in your living room
It’s item six on the news
After some vox pop football fans
And more economic blues
There’s a genocide on the BBC
There’s a genocide on ITV
There’s a genocide in your living room

There’s a genocide in your living room
And now its time for the weather
They’re shooting the starving queuing for food
There’s an area of high pressure
There’s a genocide on the BBC
There’s a genocide on ITV
There’s a genocide in your living room

(But just whistle on)

There’s a genocide in your living room
But only if you stay tuned in
There’ll be another programme along in a minute
To save you from being sucked in
There’s a genocide on the BBC
There’s a genocide on ITV
There’s a genocide in your living room

There’s a genocide in your living room
Do you think that you should take action
There’s plenty of folk trying to scare you off
There’s plenty of other distraction
There’s a genocide on the BBC
There’s a genocide on ITV
There’s a genocide in your living room

(But just whistle on)

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A Country Without Heroes

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
Art dies at the hand of content
Celebrities and brands

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
Larger than life
Is all that leaders understand
Larger than life
Is all that leaders understand

In a country without heroes
Everyone’s the star of their own B-movie
In a country without heroes
Everyone’s afraid…well, wouldn’t you be

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
Anyone can be a millionaire
Or so they’re told

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
Everything’s for sale
And everything’s been sold
Everything’s for sale
And everything’s been sold

In a country without heroes
Everyone’s the star of their own B-movie
In a country without heroes
Everyone’s afraid…well, wouldn’t you be

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
One man’s abject poverty
Is another man’s trillionaire

In a country without heroes
Where the people worship cartoon characters
Millions are in poverty
And the trick is not to care
Millions are in poverty
And the trick is not to care

In a country without heroes
Everyone’s the star of their own B-movie
In a country without heroes
Everyone’s afraid…well, wouldn’t you be
Everyone’s afraid…well, wouldn’t you be too

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Lee’s House

Lee’s house ain’t as nice
As his house, ain’t as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets

And Lee’s clothes ain’t as nice
As his clothes, ‘cos Lee knows
All the things an asylum seeker gets

From
GB News, LBC
Folks with no time for refugees
On the basis that they’re rich racists
And that’s what they want Lee to see

Lee’s money ain’t as much
As their money, ain’t as much
As what an asylum seeker gets

And Lee’s phone ain’t as nice
As his phone, ‘cos he’s been shown
What an asylum seeker gets

By
GB News, Talk TV
Folks like Nick Ferrari
On the basis that they’re rich racists
And that’s what they want Lee to see

Shall we show him
Shall we show him
Shall we show him

That Lee’s house is twice as nice
As his house, twice as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets

And Lee’s clothes are twice as nice
As his clothes, twice as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets
(Nothing, they buy their own)

And Lee’s money is so much more
Than his money, so much more
Than what an asylum seeker gets
(Forty-nine pounds a week)

And Lee’s phone is so much better
Than his phone, so much better
Than what an asylum seeker gets

‘Cos they’re from charities so they can stay in touch
With the process, services and such
But that ain’t what they want Lee to see
They want him to blame the refugee

And Lee’s house ain’t as nice
As his house, ain’t as nice
As what Nigel Farage gets

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