Voicing Dissent – A collaboration between Steve and Identity Known (Raye Calouri)
Category: Steve
A Letter From The King
Does it smell nice?
A letter from the king
Of scented ink, that kind of thing
Mellifluous craft and flowery word
Meticulously well-observed
Or does it smell of dusty palaces and old men
Tainted by the mouldering stench of then
Sparse script spiked with iron gall
As if the king should have to write at all
How tightly clenched, the royal jaw
How white-knuckled, the royal paw
Nib mashed to page, the words appear
One so looks forward to your second visit here
Behold, for sure, a regal thing
But what’s that smell?
A letter from the king
Piñata Economics
Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
So when her children had children and nothing had changed
She said, it’s time to play a new game
Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich
The piñata had grown to a terrifying size
It stared at the children with malevolent eyes
With all the richest treasures within
How do we beat it, Mother, and win?
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich
Beat it by not driving in a Tesla swasticar
Beat it by leaving X so unpopular
Beat it by not shopping at Amazon at all
Beat it with a helping hand for those that stumble
And those that fall
Beat it with taxation and electoral defeat
Beat it with poetry, beat it in the street
Beat it with love for all your fellow men
Beat it by being more organised than them
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich
Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
And when her fading came quick
To my children, she said, I leave a brightly coloured stick
[E] To beat it [G#] beat it [A] beat it [B (stop)] ‘til everyone is rich
Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich
The New Austerity Inn: Rachel Prepares For War
This pub is on a war footing
Rachel says
We’re gonna have to stand our ground
The pub up west has got a new guvnor
He’s throwing his weight around
So happy hour is over
In the New Austerity Inn
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less you’re gonna get less
This pub is on a war footing
Rachel says
We’re gonna have to stand our ground
The pub in the east is expanding
Threatening all around
So happy hour is over
In the New Austerity Inn
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
This pub is on a war footing
Rachel says
But we’re still told we need to grow
That one on the house that you take for granted
Is gonna have to go
So happy hour is over
In the New Austerity Inn
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
I’ve you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
So happy hour is over
In the New Austerity Inn
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
If you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
I’ve you’ve got less, you’re gonna get less
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
Tanks and Guns and Cans of Beer
What’s a kid to do killing time at home?
When there’s khaki and mates for life in the killing zone
Adventure high and derring-do
What’s a working-class kid to do?
They’ll ship you out and then they’ll ship you home
They’ll ship you ‘til you can’t be left alone
And there’s nothing like a night out with the lads
Even the ones getting shipped home in body bags
‘Cos we’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns and nobody wants us here
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns, and we’ve got fear
They’ll tell you kid, don’t take it home
Leave it overseas where soldiers roam
Your disposable girlfriend and your mates from school
They’re gonna train you to hate ‘em all
‘Cos we’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns and nobody wants us here
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns, and we’ve got fear
See ‘em lined up with their poppies at the Cenotaph
Never shot a gun in anger, what a laugh
With limbs and brains perfectly intact
While some of yours were never coming back
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns and nobody wants us here
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns, and we’ve got fear
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns and nobody wants us here
We’ve got tanks and guns and cans of beer
Tanks and guns and good cheer
Tanks and guns, and we’ve got fear
Great TV
Has anyone got a hand cart?
We’re on our way to hell
Has anyone got a hand cart?
It’s really not going well
Has anyone got a hand cart?
For Mr Zelensksy
Has anyone got a hand cart?
He’s hailing a taxi
And it’s gonna make great, great TV
Great, great TV
Gambling with World War Three
Great TV
Has anyone got a hand cart?
For sofa shagger Vance
Has anyone got a hand cart?
He’s overdone the bantz
Has anyone got a hand cart?
For I’ve got a letter Kier
Has anyone got a hand cart?
Charlie won’t want him near
And it’s gonna make great, great TV
Great, great TV
Gambling with World War Three
Great TV
Has anyone got a hand cart?
We’re on our way to hell
Has anyone got a hand cart?
It’s really not going well
Has anyone got a hand cart?
We’re on our way to hell
Has anyone got a hand cart?
Yeah, Donald’s got loads to sell
And it’s gonna make great, great TV
It’s gonna make great, great TV
Gambling with World War Three
Great TV
Has anyone got a hand cart?
We’re on our way to hell
Has anyone got a hand cart?
It’s really not going well
Has anyone got a hand cart?
We’re on our way to hell
Has anyone got a hand cart?
Yeah, Donald’s got loads to sell
You & Me vs. The Billionaires
Imagine getting richer while the poor are still poor
Imagine having everything and still wanting more
Imagine all the hurt and still nobody cares
That’s why it’s you and me against the billionaires
Imagine all the emeralds, your own spaceship
Shooting off to Mars on a space day trip
Imagine if they stayed, what difference would it make
When we do all the give, and they do all the take
The art of the deal says that beggars can’t be choosers
The art of the deal says that winners need their losers
The way we play is that everybody shares
That’s why it’s you and me against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
Imagine using wars to just make more money
Imagine no just cause, just bread and honey
Imagine how little the big boy cares
That’s why it’s you and me against the billionaires
The art of the deal says that beggars can’t be choosers
The art of the deal says that winners need their losers
The way we play is that everybody shares
That’s why it’s you and me against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
Mind the gap, the cats getting fatter
Mind the cap, the one that says MAGA
Mind the trap that says all lives matter
It’s you and me against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
You and me, against the billionaires
A Love Letter From Nigel Farage To Donald Trump
I always tell people that you are extraordinary
I bask in the glow of your golden age
Your upbeat populism, it’s gonna be beautiful
I’m the wind beneath the wings of your global stage
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
I love you though you can be cruel and unkind
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
Please don’t leave me behind
Remember how we felt in 2016
The laughs that we had outside the golden door
Fooling the world that we were anti-establishment
Planning all the riches that the power could score
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
I love you though you can be cruel and unkind
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
Please don’t leave me behind
I always tell people to take you seriously
Even if literally can be a bit much
I’m sorry we disagree about Zelensky
Oh Donny, Tommy doesn’t have your golden touch
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
I love you though you can be cruel and unkind
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
Please don’t leave me behind
I know he has a chainsaw and his own space rocket
I know he bought Twitter and rid it of blue
But his kid picked his nose in The Oval Office
And he could never love you the way that I do
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
I love you though you can be cruel and unkind
Oh, Donald
Oh, Donny
Please don’t leave me behind
More Rain
He looks out of the window, says it’s still grim
It ain’t stopped raining since they got in
No sign of a break in the weather
Feels like it could rain forever
And all that’s forecast is more of the same
All that’s forecast is more rain
More rain
He was listening to the guy with the Richmond song
Heard Jordan Peterson had him along
To a populist rally at the Excel
You kinda knew it as well
And all that’s forecast is more of the same
All that’s forecast is more rain
More rain
Meanwhile in Maryland, another Nazi
No putting this one down to chance, he
Said, fight, fight, fight
And signalled to the far right
Silence where you need condemnation
But he buys into the state of the nation
Looking out of the window, he says it’s still grim
Has been since they got in
And all that’s forecast is more of the same
All that’s forecast is more rain
More rain
More rain
Tommy Anderson RIP
My name is Tam The Bin Man, and I’ll take them out on strike
He wore a tartan bonnet, and in his hand a mic
He knew a life of struggle, and solidarity
He knew the fight for justice, and equality
On the bins you see the folk who find the street their home
Tommy vowed that they should never struggle on their own
He looked after the homeless, the needy, and the poor
He looked after the union, from the shop floor
Tommy looked after the homeless, and anyone he could
Tommy looked after the homeless, like a good union man should
Proud Scotsman, he moved to town when he was just eighteen
Homeless then, he knew the lives of others he had seen
He looked after the homeless, because Tommy understood
A union man should help in any way he could
Tommy looked after the homeless, and anyone he could
Tommy looked after the homeless, like a good union man should
My name is Tam The Bin Man, and I took them out on strike
I looked after the homeless and the union alike
I looked after the homeless and anyone I could
I looked after the homeless, like a good union man should
Tommy looked after the homeless, and anyone he could
Tommy looked after the homeless, like a good union man should
Steve White & The Protest Family 