Put the Christ back into Christmas
The Islam back into Islamophobia
The bigot back into bigotry
The my back into myopia
Put the St. George back into the cross
Put the hat back into Santa
Put the race back into racism
Put the coke back into Fanta
Put the him back into hymns
Put the nation back into nationalism
Put the Christ back into Christmas
Put the Robinson back into prison
He died for his country
The first of the fallen
From Operation Raise The Colours
The tributes came pouring in
From football hooligans
And casual sisters and brothers
Banned for life from Bristol City
Now he’s banned in Bristol City from life
He leaves behind Michele, his wife
He leaves his ladders to the flag committee
His life was colourful, it’s said
Like the roundabouts he painted red
And the thoughts rushing through his head
With the pavement straight ahead
He died for his country
The first of the fallen
From Operation Raise The Colours
My advice: don’t hang the flags at all
But if you do, get some footed help from others
Nasty Norris from the Home Office
Metal detector in hand
Takes jewellery from refugees
At the border to this green and pleasant land
With their human rights in his sights
He claims they cost a billion pounds
His twenty year plan to send them back
Just as grim as it sounds
Dark forces stirring up anger
Prompt his boss’s idea
But with Nasty Norris at The Home Office
The dark forces are here
No longer being a prince ain’t justice
The When-Willy-Is-King hints ain’t justice
Not being the Duke of York ain’t justice
All the media talk ain’t justice
(Not being the Earl of Inverness
Does anyone care less?)
Exile to Sandringham ain’t justice
Surnamed Mountbatten ain’t justice
Not Baron Killyleagh ain’t justice
How long the delay on justice?
They’re just protecting the brand
Letting you think he’s damned
But beyond the pale
Still ain’t in jail
Happy hour seems like a long time ago
Now it turns out that Rachel didn’t have a licence to run the New Austerity Inn
Don’t worry said the Big Boss from the Brewery
We all make mistakes
And while the beer is stale
and the punters are depressed
they all come in for a warm-up
this time of year
What they gonna do?
Go to the ‘Spoons?
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
Earl of Inverness
Erstwhile passenger aboard the Lolita Express
Refuses to confess
Shelled out twelve million nonetheless
Of public money, at a guess
Is still the Duke of York, unless
Parliament decides otherwise
Which would come as some surprise
Given its current tenants
So, he maintains the dukedom in his clutch
Just offers to not be known as such
Somehow by way of penance
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
His sweatless bluff now failed
His lies to Emily unveiled
Thought eighth in line would just prevail
But to no avail
Prepares for life beyond the pale
Should be in jail
Eighty years ago
My grandad lived in Walthamstow
He saw the queue for fish and chips
Get blown to bits
By a bomb in World War Two
Hated fascists, like you do
Moved to Clacton in ‘82
Derek lives in his house now
Flies the flag, English and proud
Remembers the war like yesterday
‘Though he weren’t born ‘til ‘53
He left Walthamstow in ‘92
And now he votes for fascists
Like you do
Racist Bob went to Handsworth
As close to a slum as I’ve come, he said
As close to numb as a bum, in his head
That’s been sat on for too long
As long as Bob’s been wrong
I didn’t see another white face, he said
Er, but it’s not about race, he said
That racist Bob
He thinks racism is fashionable
And he’s after the top job
Is Racist Bob
Nigel wants to kick out his girlfriend
Nigel wants to kick out his ex
An end to indefinite leave to remain
Them first, you next
Nigel’s borrowing policy
From the BNP and National Front
Even the right-wing papers say
Nigel’s an unworkable stunt
Fifty-five pounds’ worth of hope
Fifty-five pounds’ worth of luck
Fifty-five pounds’ worth fairer future
Fifty-five pounds’ worth of what the fuck
Steve White & The Protest Family 