Kicked in the head by airport cops While Dujardin flogs her horse For sections of the listenership The horse was worse of course Now she’s not going to the Olympics But the child rapist is What jobs should rapists be allowed Is Thursday’s phone-in quiz On Leading Britain’s Conversation The hang and flog ‘em crowd Who never stop to ask Why Tommy Robinson’s allowed Which leaves it up to us To never let the haters win Leading Britain’s Racists Back to the fuckin’ bin Tapping their fascist toes To Louise Distras, I suppose A far cry from The Factory Floor And The Hand You Hold I suspect this ain’t the album That many folk were sold Don’t give up hope Beryl would remind us It remains a slippery slope
Refugees on barges Jeering little Farages When Britannia ruled the waves James Bibby was transporting slaves Meanwhile humanitarians Are Nick Ferrari’s enemy
Refugees on prison ships Suella’s bag of cruel tricks Singing Rule Britannia Let’s make you all unhappier Somewhere there’s a statue That needs chucking in the sea
I’ve got my radio on, tuned to LBC And every other jock’s tryin’ to tell me That culturally, the Muslim man Is pre-disposed to a grooming gang A grooming gang, not a paedophile ring ‘Cause a paedophile ring is a white man thing It’s a racist phone-in, non-stop And the worst of it is, it’s coming from the top It’s coming from the top and here’s the thing The people at the top have got brown skin It’s a desperate scramble for votes, last ditch
And people get hurt when you talk like this
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Our coach can’t get into Europe The school trip kiddies cry ‘Cause every passport needs a stamp Did you stop to wonder why? Is it two sides of the same coin, you ask Well, it’s definitely two cheeks of the same arse Do you need another clue?
We hate folk who ain’t from round here And the ones from round here too
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It’s limited and specific Like the KLF didn’t say All bound for Brexit Benefit Land Get out the fuckin’ way Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain Where the rules get ripped up and re-written For the fool who messed up worst and last In the interests of the ruling class And we’re throwing a party we can’t afford For the bloke on the business end of the sword While the supplicant kneeling is now at the helm Of the opposition, a knight of the realm We’ve got Charlie in charge, Charlie on the throne Where’s our revolucion? Charlie in France, well maybe not What chance have we fuckin’ got?
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Let’s face this Ferrari’s racist Reductio-ing ad absurdum To define himself a black man Micro-aggressively denying Micro-aggression is a thing And people who look just like him Get to hear as much he’d argue You, you’re not from round here are you National broadcast bigotry Delivered daily on LBC
Condescending Mogg at his condescending best Says leg before wicket is the best test Of whether Spaffer’s lying He’s on the offensive no forward defensive stroke this He’s taking the piss And not even trying
The Minister for Lack of Opportunity for Our Community Is here to spar with Marr It’s infuriating so far His relying on denying Crying speculation And irrespective of the effect of his words Encourages perspective About Marr’s father dying And Partygate
For Mogg it’s just a game These people have no shame
Barbara says it’s none of Nick’s business Barbara says it’s her personal choice Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara says both sides need a voice
Barbara’s annoyed that Santa got the vaccine Barbara’s mad at Tesco’s Christmas ad Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara thinks that we’ve all been had
Barbara doesn’t wear a seatbelt Barbara doesn’t always turn the lights on Barbara’s ringing up the radio Barbara thinks that the science is wrong
Barbara’s careful what she puts in her body Barbara’s ringing up to have a go Barbara’s a bacon-eating anti-vaxxer And Barbara’s ringing up the radio
You can’t take a chicken by surprise, James You can’t take a chicken by surprise Nick don’t care how it dies Nick just likes chicken pies And you can’t take a chicken by surprise
You can’t eat your burger in peace, James You can’t eat your burger in peace Although Nick loves the grease Of the recently deceased You can’t eat your burger in peace
You can’t take your mother to the vets, Ed You can’t take your mother to the vets They might be great with pets But the BMA regrets That you can’t take your mother to the vets
You can’t take a chicken by surprise, James You can’t take a chicken by surprise You might deny their demise As food supply compromise But you can’t take a chicken by surprise
If you were listening to LBC today, you may have heard James O’Brien’s, admittedly unfinished, debate about the relative sentience of cows and chickens as justification for the various methods of their slaughter for food. Earlier, Nick Ferrari was comfortable not really caring how the chicken died so long as he could eat it.
Later on, the conversation in Eddie Mair’s show turned to assisted dying with a caller bemoaning that we treat terminally ill humans worse than we treat their pets.
He’s dog-whistling up the news The favourite sport of the populist columnist From The Currant Bun to The News of the Screws The chance to scapegoat’s rarely missed So, ring the show, grass up your neighbours Hold fast the fruits of your own labours Pull up the ladder, lock up your daughters Here come Ferrari’s Furlough Fraudsters
Steve White & The Protest Family 