(They’re Eating The) Swans

They’re eating the swans says Derek
They’re eating the swans in the Royal Park
Shut up Derek says Margaret
Stop being so daft

I heard it this morning on LBC
Where nothing is true so anything could be
In Clacton, it’s Derek’s take
That fake news is real, and real news is fake

When the MP shares a racist trope
The MP’s that kinda racist bloke
An MP who shares a racist hoax
Then covers his tracks with a just misspoke

Tropes to cover his tracks
Avoiding questions about his tax
And callers on the phone
Asking whose money paid for his Clacton home

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

Meanwhile across the pond
The stories correspond
They’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats
Are Donny’s version of the facts

Dropping racist bombs
Makes you wonder where Nigel gets it from
A taxi driver he says
Is where he gets his facts these days

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

They’re bringing in shariah law, says Derek
I heard it on LBC
Nigel’s taxi driver says so
And who am I to disagree

They’re eating the swans says Derek
It’s our MP’s hot take
When nothing is true in Clacton
Fake news is real and real news is fake

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be…..

We All Deserve A Chance

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

Lee’s House

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

Walthamstow Wide Awake

What ya gonna do when Little Tommy comes to town
Stand your ground
They shall not pass

What ya gonna do second time around
Stand your ground
And hold fast

What ya gonna do
When Nigel calls a riot
He’s only askin’ questions
And you ain’t keeping quiet
When the fascists come to town
Stand your ground and hold fast
They shall not pass

From 1914 to Bell Corner
To Hoe Street in the calm summer sun
Walthamstow wide awake
Walthamstow awake and watch ‘em run

What you gonna do while Little Tommy is away
Raise a glass
And have a laugh

What you gonna do while Little Tommy is away
Stay awake
And hold fast

Don’t be a stay at home Stella
Don’t give yourself a dilemma
When the fascists come to town
The streets are where you should be found,
So hold fast, they shall not pass

From 1914 to Bell Corner
To Hoe Street in the calm summer sun
Walthamstow wide awake
Walthamstow awake and watch ‘em run

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

If We Had Won The War

Oh, how different, if we had won the war!
There’d be no Nazis in The Whitehouse, that’s for sure
We’d all have homes for heroes, there’d be no Jan 6 zeroes
There’d be refuge for the needy and the poor
If we had won the war!

Oh, how different, if we had won the war!
We’d want for nowt, and never need for more
One nation under God
Even if you think that’s odd
And everybody welcome at our shore
If we had won the war!

If we had won the war, there’d be no Nazis at our door
No Nazis in Reform UK or even down that UKIP way
If we had won the war, there’d be no Nazis at our door
No Nazis in The Whitehouse, that’s for sure
If we had won the war

Oh, how different, if we had won the war!
Working would never be a chore
We’d all know fair is fair
And billionaires would pay their share
There’d be no Nazis in The Whitehouse, that’s for sure
If we had won the war!

If we had won the war, there’d be no Nazis at our door
No Nazis in Reform UK or even down that UKIP way
If we had won the war, there’d be no Nazis at our door
No Nazis in The Whitehouse, that’s for sure
If we had won the war

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.

Henry and the Tractors

Henry parked his tractor in Whitehall
Turned to the camera to explain
My lifestyle is under threat, he said
It’s causing my accountant great pain

The only way to farm this land, he said
Is if your father was a farmer too
And if your granddad owned it before him
Then farming’s what you’re born to do

Like being a millionaire, I thought
The bit that was going unsaid
Why’s the right to own and work the land
Restricted to the born and bred?

Henry and the tractors were holding up traffic
Like Just Stop Oil in tweed caps
Barbour coats and green wellies
A Reform UK uniform, perhaps

Like mustard-trousered Farage
Defending the interests of his class
Henry parked his tractor in Whitehall
What a fucking arse

Doing Time For Nigel

Derek Drummond, 58
Punched a copper in the face
Stole some bricks and threw them straight
He’s doing time for Nigel

Declan Geiran joined the fight
Tried to set a van alight
Admitted arson, as you might
He’s doing time for Nigel

John O’Malley, 43
Helped destroy the library
Now he’s under lock and key
He’s doing time for Nigel

William Morgan, 69
Brought a cosh with crime in mind
His next few years are well defined
He’s doing time for Nigel

England ‘til I die, they cried
With Little Tommy as their guide
Now they’ve got a bit inside
They’re doing time for Nigel

Untitled (5 August 2024)

It’s happy hour in The New Austerity Inn
And there’s still fighting in town
You can’t have it if you can’t afford it
Rachel doubles down
But two for the price of one
When you ain’t got the price of one
Ain’t helping anyone
And it’s not like she can just print money

It was just the same with George behind the jump
Gets a wry nod from the snug
Now there was a fella with no idea
Of how to run a pub

I spoke to a man who said he was a patriot
But he didn’t like the country much
He said he wasn’t a racist, but
And we really didn’t get past the but
Because he was retweeting Robinson
And Nigel Fucking Farage
A burning hotel in Rotherham
And rioters at large

Sweeping up with a hangover
I hear he got a sympathetic ear
From Nick Ferrari on LBC
GB News and Talk TV

Another bloke said well what do you expect
When people ain’t got a thing
There’s a burning police car outside
And it’s happy hour
In The New Austerity Inn