Category: Steve

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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Put The Christ Back Into Christmas

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

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The First Of The Fallen

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

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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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Nasty Norris From The Home Office

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

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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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Not Being A Prince

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

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The New Austerity Inn: Rachel’s Licence

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?

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The Cesspit

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

(Log on)

Embery says there’s too many blacks on TV
Pochin Reform MP says I agree
Little Tommy Tel Aviv Telegrams in
Benny’s Luton teddy with the cocaine grin

Luton, Durham, Epping, Stoke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke
Need a toke to supercharge your anti-woke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

Race is where the money wants you to go
Race is where they say the blame is—oh
Race is where the money wants you to go
The money made the racism don’t you know

‘Cos you don’t go to war with your equals
You go to war with the not-like-you
You don’t go to war with your equals
That’s why they’re feeding you on Elon’s stew

(Elon’s racist stew—fuck you)

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

In Epping Adam says that paedos make him ill
Only the ones with brown faces still
Not the hundreds of white ones up the hill
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill

Adam’s got a TV slot he needs to fill
Adam’s got a mission that he needs to fulfil
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill
Adam’s making bitcoin off the red pill

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

Flags or community you choose
A seat on the bus or Great Replacement News
You can be a racist or you can refuse
A swim in the cesspit
A wade in you guessed it
Another day in the shit

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