Frog-faced fascist Farage
The tinpot TikTok wannabe dictator
Squawks deport ‘em all, let God sort ‘em out
Dreams of riots, five quid flags
And mini roundabouts
Dreams of Trump-ish sanctions
And Taliban transactions
It’s mass deportation masturbation
For a nation that’s been
Squeezed, plucked
Furloughed, fucked
Despairing for an answer
But stranded with a chancer
In stockbroker tweed
When what they need
Is far less greed
From those that have it all already
Such as him
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
Made in China from the finest polyester
Bought in bulk from that Bezos bloke
No official status in the state apparatus
It says I’m English mate, it says I’m not woke
It says I’m proud that there used to be a library here
Named after some statue or other
I’m proud of the flats that I will never afford
And the bedroom that I share with my brother
I’m proud of Jimmy Dyson, the entrepreneur
Shame his hoovers ain’t made round here no more
And I’m proud of Jerry Clarkson and his comedy farm
His avoiding tax ain’t doing me no harm
Proud of the mums of Epping draped in flags
With sons in the party and mates on tags
The GB News-er who runs his own boozer
And the RefUK councillor who’s a sex abuser
It says I’m proud of our culture, proud to be default
Proud of Nigel’s millions and the fine wine in his vault
Proud of the riots after the Southport attack
I’m proud we fought the fascists and I’m proud they’re coming back
Made in China from the finest polyester
Twelve quid on eBay for two
Not intended to intimidate, oh wait
Coming to a lamppost near you
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
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
Kier says that the suffering is terrible
Kier says that the suffering is wrong
Kier says that he’ll recognise Palestine
Once all the Palestinians are gone
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)
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
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
Rachel’s in tears behind the bar of The New Austerity Inn. The boss at the brewery has refused to say if he’ll keep her on or not and the local paper’s got hold of the story.
Against all odds, the locals are rallying round. They might not have forgiven her for trying to chase the old folk out who’d just come in for a bit of warmth during the winter, but it’s their pub, nonetheless, and their loyalty means that the books are starting to look slightly better.
The beer is still awful, mind you.
Steve White & The Protest Family 