He outsourced his outrage at his failing living standards to the racists Subcontracted his fear about his children’s future years to the transphobes He offset his anger about a council that won’t try To a campaign against the RNLI He’s backing Nigel ‘cause he tells him who to hate, when he’s just trying to get by
He farmed out his frustration at house price inflation to Islamophobes Delegated his dismay on another budget day to deniers of asylum seekers’ rights He exported consternation at his pub in liquidation To roundabout and lamppost decorators He’s backing Nigel ‘cause he tells him who to hate, and who are traitors
He doesn’t empathise ‘cause he doesn’t understand He doesn’t understand ‘cause he won’t listen He won’t listen ‘cause no one’s helped his problems go away He won’t listen ‘cause hears politicians Not listening every day
It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy Epstein o’clock for Lord Pete Epstein o’clock, just like Andy Soon to live on Used-To-Have-A-Title Street
It’s Epstein o’clock for Petey Even though he says he didn’t partake It ain’t much of an entreaty When you’re selling the secrets of the state
It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy Hey, Prince of Darkness, it’s Epstein o’clock Soon for a bunch of very rich bastards It’ll be Epstein o’clock Tick, tock
A poet’s words heard for the first time Are like something you already knew A poet should say what needs to be said A poet should speak it true A poet should say what you need to hear And you know she was a poet too Minneapolis was yet another outrage But this time she looked like you
Sir Kier sheds no tear for Maduro For international law is his call On kidnap, oil and violence From Sir Kier simply silence In a statement as weak as it is small
Sir Kier sheds no tear for Venezuela Of the people, he said nothing at all
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
Your grandad shot at nazis taxed the rich and built the NHS You mum fought for equality and fairness, nonetheless we sleepwalked into the arms of bastard billionaires Now you hang flags from lampposts and mouth pantomime prayers
Dogs, pigs, three-year-old kids Eating one the law forbids Convention says the second is Similarly deterred While of the tragic third Consumption is preferred Which is absurd When you consider The pig desires to not be dinner As much as the kid Would rather not get et And don’t forget the dog Who one simply does not eat While he snoozes at your feet Why not let All three be free To snooze and play And not be tea
Steve White & The Protest Family 