austerity – Steve White & The Protest Family

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

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

November 15, 2025 by protestfamily Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: austerity, budget, new austerity inn, politics, rachel reeves, songwriting, writing Leave a comment

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

March 7, 2025March 7, 2025 by protestfamily Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: austerity, austerity 2.0, cuts, defence spending, politics, putin, rachel reeves, songwriting, trump, writing Leave a comment

Happy Hour is Over

Happy hour is over.

Rachel surveys the thinning crowd from behind the bar of The New Austerity Inn. “I thought it would be better than this,” she says to no one in particular.

The locals have taken to calling her “Rachel the Barmaid”. They don’t think that she’s qualified to run the pub on her own. She might have pinned her certificate to the wall, but she’s still done nothing about the dire offering on tap.

Meanwhile, outside the Wetherspoons, a man in mustard trousers hides a glass of Chablis behind “a pint of your finest ale”, lights a cigarette, and waits.

January 16, 2025 by protestfamily Categories: SteveTags: austerity, nigel farage, politics, racel reeves, the new austerity inn, writing Leave a comment

The New Austerity Inn

In the New Austerity Inn
Where the beer tastes of poverty and spin
Rachel plays a tiny violin
(Singing) You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it

In the New Austerity Inn
Where old folk aspire for a warm around the fire
Rachel leads the budget choir
(Singing) You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it

In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn

In the New Austerity Inn
The guvnor’s got a new suit, new tie, new boots
He says everything’s reduced
(But) You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it

In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn

It was just like this with George in charge
A bloke at the bar says he voted Farage
And Rachel shouts “Now we’re in charge”
In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn
In the New Austerity Inn
The New Austerity Inn
(And) You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
We can’t have it if they can’t afford it
We can’t have it if they can’t afford it
We can’t have it if they can’t afford it
We can’t have it if they can’t afford it

October 18, 2024 by protestfamily Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: austerity, budget, Kier Starmer, politics, rahel reeves, songwriting, writing Leave a comment

Untitled (31 July 2024)

It’s happy hour in The New Austerity Inn
And a fight’s already broken out
If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it
Rachel cries, as another brick flies
And machetes are drawn in the street outside
Someone’s set fire to a police van
Someone’s shouting at Keith with a wreath
Someone says what about the children
A small voice what about the children
But the far right are flying the flag
And Rachel says God Save The King

July 31, 2024July 31, 2024 by protestfamily Categories: poetry, SteveTags: austerity, poetry, politics, rachel reeves, riots, southend, southport, writing Leave a comment

This is the Real Life

This is the real life
This is the butcher
This the austere knife
The hand that pushed her
These are the cuts
This is the missed meal
This door is shut
This wound will not heal

This is the teacher
With nothing to say
This is the preacher
With no room to pray
This is the healer
Refusing to heal
This is the dealer
With souls to steal

This is the leader
With no will to lead
He’s pleased to meet her
In her hour of need
This is the Jesus
Asleep on the cross
This is God sees us
God don’t give a toss

This is the ceasefire
Where bullets still fly
This is the liar
On whom they rely
This is the snake oil
This is the monorail
This is the frog boil
This is the tall tale

This is the real life
This is the war
This is real spite
Despite the law
These are the orphans
These are the limbs
This is the organ
These are the hymns

This is the refugee
This is the other
This is her rescue me
This is her colour
This is the problem
This is the scapegoat
This is one of them
This is a small boat

These are the wages
These are the prices
These are the places
This is the crisis
This is the circus
These are the clowns
We give them purpose
We give them crowns

This is the real life
Here is your bill
Here come the far-right
Here is the red pill
This is the phone-in
This is the show
No serotonin
Nowhere to go

This is the real life
This is the butcher
This the austere knife
The hand that pushed her
This is the real life
This is the last chance
This is the real life
This is the last dance

June 21, 2024 by protestfamily Categories: poetry, SteveTags: austerity, change, jesus, poetry, politics, tories, writing Leave a comment

Fat Cats

Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re talking ‘bout the price of gas
They say handouts are kinda crass
The sinking ship’s still fulla rats
Who like to think they’re friends with cats

(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re talking ‘bout the price of you
The pay rise that you’re due
They’re telling you to join the queue
For the credit card they overdrew

(And)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

If in the morning they were all gone
Everyone would see the con
If the billionaires had upped and run
All the work would still get done

(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re literally printing money (not literally)
Their uplands are always sunny
While the country descends into poverty
They’re all on fuckin’ holiday

(‘Cause)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

August 20, 2022 by protestfamily Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: austerity, cost of living crisis, energy bills, greed, politics, songwriting, sunlit uplands, writing Leave a comment

(There Ain’t No) Halfway There

If you halve child poverty, will they all be half as poor?
Or will half be as poor as all they were before?
What sort of compromise
With government lies
About austerity and poverty
And children going hungry
Says well, we’ll meet you halfway there

The judgement of Solomon is somehow lost on them
The biblical rule said going halves ain’t cool
What kind of compromise
With folk that you despise
Says, you know well maybe
If we can’t have all the baby
Says well, we’ll meet you halfway there

We went looking for the centre, but all we found was the system
There ain’t no halfway there

There ain’t no halfway
There ain’t no halfway there

September 12, 2021 by protestfamily Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: austerity, centre politics, centrist politics, child poverty, Kier Starmer, politics, Sir Keir Starmer, Solomon, songwriting, Tory cuts, writing Leave a comment

We Shall Overcome at What’s Cookin’

“This is about stopping the Tories killing people. We’ll stop them with a raised fist: in the streets, on demonstrations and by organising in our trade unions, our workplaces and our communities. Tonight we’re going to stop them with a helping hand. All tonight’s acts are playing for free, all the money will go to people on the front line of stopping Tories killing people: a food bank, a soup kitchen, and a charity that supports disabled survivors of abuse and hate crime.”

use78957012_10157480896927713_4755053164934201344_o — Picture: Alison Foster

Well, we all needed that after this week: some joy, some solidarity. Never underestimate the healing power of music.

There is perhaps no better band to lift your post-election blues than Commie Faggots, no better R’n’B to dance the night away to than The Beatpack’s, book-ending our favourite ever pub rockers Graham Larkbey & The Escape Committee, the irrepressible Efa Supertramp, our hero Robb Johnson thanking the audience for lifting his spirits and, of course, us, debuting Air Miles Andy and leading a rousing chorus of Bring the Bastards Down.

We emerge this morning bleary-eyed but calmer, with a renewed sense of purpose.

We shall overcome.

The final fundraising figures aren’t in yet, but the legendary What’s Cookin’ whip-round won’t have let us down. If you couldn’t make it but would like to make a contribution, here are the links:

Eat or Heat

The Christian Kitchen

Stay Safe East