Killing People’s Okay, But Kissing Them Isn’t

Killing people’s okay
But kissing ’em isn’t.
Give your girl a job,
But make sure you keep her distant
Workplace lovin’
Brings a certain frisson
But killing people’s okay
And kissing ‘em isn’t

Hopeless Hancock had his cake and ate it
Gave his girl a job, but now he might regret it
If there’s a prize for incompetence, you think he’d probably get it
But give ‘em extra marital, they won’t let you forget it

Professor Lockdown will tell ya, “It happened to me”.
But Hopeless don’t take advice easily.
Although he hands out contracts to friends and family
It’s about him and Gina: Stars of CCTV

‘Cos sex sells papers, I’m sure you understand
We live in saucy seaside postcard land
It’s Carry On Government at it’s most grand
And Hands Face Arse might get him banned

Hancock, the Care Home Killer

Hancock, the Care Home Killer
Says he’s saving lives
While Barnard Castle Cummings
Is sharpening his knives
To no avail, as nothing sticks
To the Teflon Tory
Who’s taken his tricks
To Westminster Cathedral, no less
To marry number three, Carrie
(I hear you’re a Catholic now, father)
But, I digress
Hancock, the Care Home Killer
Who connived
To send the virus into care homes
But said that he was saving lives
Continues to tell lies
As Cummings’ evidence provides
So when all this is over, don’t forget
Even as the statue of Boris Johnson’s getting wet
That the ministerial hand upon that tiller
Belonged to Hancock, the Care Home Killer

Kick It ‘Til It Breaks

Who has got the more slappable face?
Well, Scotch Egg Gove was leading the race
But now Horrible Hancock is in first place
You’ve gotta do what it takes
And kick it ‘til it breaks

Kick it ‘til it breaks
You gotta slap its silly face
And kick it ‘til it breaks

What I said was
What I meant was
What I said was
What I meant was
For fuck’s sake
Just kick it ‘til it breaks

And Cummings’ heroic self sacrifice bid
Ain’t gonna forgive what he did
A trip to the castle with his kid
God forbid
You’ve gotta kick it ‘til it breaks

Kick it ‘til it breaks
You gotta slap its silly face
And kick it ‘til it breaks

Then there’s the care home fiasco
The PPE that didn’t show
The clap a nurse but pay Dido
They’ve gotta go
You’ve gotta kick it ‘til it breaks

Kick it ‘til it breaks
You gotta slap its silly face
And kick it ‘til it breaks

Like a Hartlepool voter
An EU fishing quota
An Eton boater
Who cares not one iota
A pawnbroker playing poker
While the odour of the owner
Runs you over like a roller
Someone wake me when it’s over
And we can kick it ‘til it breaks

The State of the Opening of Parliament

She’s in the Daimler, not the gold carriage of state,
While the million-pound hat is in separate freight,
Pulling in through the Westminster palace gate.
It’s Black Rod’s big day out.

Where they always slam the door in her face
Before she bangs it thrice with her staff (not her mace)
To summon the Commons to the other place
To hear what this term’s all about.

These days, the crown’s heavy on the royal head
So, it’s relegated to a cushion instead
While the Queen’s speech sets out the year ahead
And new laws for those hereabout.

My Lords, she says, and you commoner lot,
My government would like to buy me a yacht,
But while the pandemic remains a blot
They’d best leave that bit out.

So, my government (led by that chap with the hair)
Will promise that the recovery’s fair,
While remaining silent on the social care
They reckon you can do without.

And my government’s Procurement Bill
Will make their contracts easier still
For the likes of Hancock’s mates to fulfil
When they’re in need of a handout.

My government will not require
Employers to desist from fire and rehire.
It’s enough to make a prince perspire,
The stuff that they’ve left out.

The state of the opening of Parliament
Where the Queen sets out Spaffer’s intent
In the gaps between what’s said and what’s meant.
It’s Black Rod’s big day out.

For Hug’s Sake

Spaffer liked hugging Allegra
Spaffer liked hugging Marina too
Spaffer liked hugging Anna Fazackerley
And now hugging’s in the news
(For hug’s sake)

Spaffer liked hugging with Helen
But Spaffer still liked hugging Marina too
Spaffer won’t hug you if you ask about Stephanie
And now hugging’s in the news

Spaffer’s hugging here and Spaffer’s hugging there
He hugged up Foreign Secretary, hugged up being mayor
He’s hugging up the red wall, hugging lying down
No one’s safe from being hugged by Bozo the Clown

Spaffer liked hugging with Jennifer
Hugging on the sofa like there’s nothing to lose
Spaffer likes a hug more than anything else
And now hugging’s in the news
(For hug’s sake)

Spaffer likes hugging with Carrie
He’s hugged her enough to want to marry her too
Spaffer is the hugger that the voters love
And now hugging’s in the news

Spaffer’s hugging here and Spaffer’s hugging there
He hugged up Foreign Secretary, hugged up being mayor
He’s hugging up the red wall, hugging lying down
No one’s safe from being hugged by Bozo the Clown

Let the Bodies Pile High

James Dyson’s tax bill, Cameron and Greensill
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Hancock’s sister’s company, Jennifer Arcuri
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Sixty grand wallpaper, the Barnard Castle caper
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Wincanton’s LFTs, being accused of sleaze
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands
Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands
Let the bodies pile high, Spaffer’s battle cry
Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands

Big contract awards, in the Commons and the Lords
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Ayanda Capital, nothing wrong with that at all
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Randox and Serco, racing’s where the money goes
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Nothing here to see, no public inquiry
Let the bodies pile high
Let the bodies pile high

Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands
Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands
Let the bodies pile high, Spaffer’s battle cry
Let the bodies pile high, in their thousands

Colin, the COVID Cat

Colin the cat caught a cough.
A new persistent cough
That Colin the cat couldn’t shake off.
Because Colin was a Covid cat.
Because of the food chain and all that.
Because humans got it from bats
And the humans fed the cats.

Chloe, the keeper of cats,
Noticed Colin coughing, said “What’s all that”
“A coughing cat?”
Dialled 111 to speak to someone
But couldn’t get Colin a Covid test done.
They said, “Your best bet is to try the vets”
“We don’t do a Covid test for pets”

And Chloe, the keeper of cats,
Said, “Why do I pay my tax?”
“And my National Insurance and that”
“If I can’t get a Covid test for my cat?”
“He’s not a pangolin or a bat.”
“It’s discrimination, it’s a bitter pill”
“That you get a vet’s bill when the cat is ill.”

So Chloe cat-keeper used a mobile device
To access some free internet advice
About what to do with a persistent cough
That Colin the cat couldn’t shake off
With no cat cough medicine to quaff.
And much to Colin’s frustration
Chloe put Colin in isolation

Colin the cat, in Covid jail
To protect cats more vulnerable and frail
Will use a life to tell this tale
Of Colin, the coughing Covid cat,
Victim of the food chain and all that
Because the humans ate the pangolins and bats
And the humans fed the cats.

Spaffed

Let’s paint it blue,
Draped with union jacks
But Spaffer’s West Wing
Just got the axe
He said “They wanna hear me”
But doubt got in his head
And now Allegra needs
Another job instead

Her’s got spaffed

Spaffed! There goes your taxpayer pound
Spaffed! By Bozo the Clown
He Spaffed on the bus, he spaffed in space
He Spaffed on Dido’s track and Dido’s trace

Let’s build a bridge
Bedecked with flowers
Take what’s theirs
And make it ours
We’ll host bridge parties,
Corporate jollies
Another of Johnson’s
Corporate follies

It got spaffed

Spaffed! There goes your taxpayer pound
Spaffed! By Bozo the Clown
He Spaffed on the bus, he spaffed in space
He Spaffed on Dido’s track and Dido’s trace

Let’s build an island
In the middle of the Thames
For planes to take off
And to land again
Like many of his ideas
This one was crap
Four million quid later,
Boris Island got scrapped

It got Spaffed

Spaffed! There goes your taxpayer pound
Spaffed! By Bozo the Clown
Spaffed on the bus, spaffed in space
Spaffed on Dido’s track and Dido’s trace

Let’s paint it blue,
Draped in Union Jacks
Let’s paint it blue,
Draped in Union Jacks
Let’s paint it blue, draped in Union Jacks
And bury the news that it’s been spaffed
Spaffed