Andrew, so-called prince Publicly funded paedophile of this parish Earl of Inverness Erstwhile passenger aboard the Lolita Express Refuses to confess Shelled out twelve million nonetheless Of public money, at a guess Is still the Duke of York, unless Parliament decides otherwise Which would come as some surprise Given its current tenants So, he maintains the dukedom in his clutch Just offers to not be known as such Somehow by way of penance
Andrew, so-called prince Publicly funded paedophile of this parish His sweatless bluff now failed His lies to Emily unveiled Thought eighth in line would just prevail But to no avail Prepares for life beyond the pale Should be in jail
Eighty years ago My grandad lived in Walthamstow He saw the queue for fish and chips Get blown to bits By a bomb in World War Two Hated fascists, like you do Moved to Clacton in ‘82
Derek lives in his house now Flies the flag, English and proud Remembers the war like yesterday ‘Though he weren’t born ‘til ‘53 He left Walthamstow in ‘92 And now he votes for fascists Like you do
Racist Bob went to Handsworth As close to a slum as I’ve come, he said As close to numb as a bum, in his head That’s been sat on for too long As long as Bob’s been wrong I didn’t see another white face, he said Er, but it’s not about race, he said That racist Bob He thinks racism is fashionable And he’s after the top job Is Racist Bob
Nigel wants to kick out his girlfriend Nigel wants to kick out his ex An end to indefinite leave to remain Them first, you next Nigel’s borrowing policy From the BNP and National Front Even the right-wing papers say Nigel’s an unworkable stunt
Frog-faced fascist Farage The tinpot TikTok wannabe dictator Squawks deport ‘em all, let God sort ‘em out Dreams of riots, five quid flags And mini roundabouts Dreams of Trump-ish sanctions And Taliban transactions
It’s mass deportation masturbation For a nation that’s been Squeezed, plucked Furloughed, fucked Despairing for an answer But stranded with a chancer In stockbroker tweed When what they need Is far less greed From those that have it all already Such as him
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back giving a fuck about each other Bring back understanding Whose wealth is expanding
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street
Paul lives in a country With no parliament or king His flag has no status Except with racists and their kin Paul lives in a country Where even the roundabouts are white His crusade’s embarrassing And not a pretty sight
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street
You can join Reform UK But don’t get excited The party’s for the very rich And you ain’t invited Reform FC is not a team You want to bet your life on Nigel’s not the football type His word can’t be relied on
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street
Bring back the experts Bring back the truth Facts don’t have another side For anyone to choose Bring back the right questions Bin the clickbait and the quotes None of your problems Arrived here on small boats
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street
If you fly the flag to intimidate If you sneak it up at night If you fly it to say you’re not welcome here If you fly it out of spite Then you don’t fly the flag for me You don’t fly the flag for this country You fly it for the fascists And we will tear it down
Bring back the dancing coppers Bring back community Bring back using lampposts Just the light the street
If you fly the flag to intimidate If you sneak it up at night If you fly it to say you’re not welcome here If you fly it out of spite Then you don’t fly the flag for me You don’t fly the flag for this country You fly it for the fascists And we will tear it down
Made in China from the finest polyester Bought in bulk from that Bezos bloke No official status in the state apparatus It says I’m English mate, it says I’m not woke
It says I’m proud that there used to be a library here Named after some statue or other I’m proud of the flats that I will never afford And the bedroom that I share with my brother
I’m proud of Jimmy Dyson, the entrepreneur Shame his hoovers ain’t made round here no more And I’m proud of Jerry Clarkson and his comedy farm His avoiding tax ain’t doing me no harm
Proud of the mums of Epping draped in flags With sons in the party and mates on tags The GB News-er who runs his own boozer And the RefUK councillor who’s a sex abuser
It says I’m proud of our culture, proud to be default Proud of Nigel’s millions and the fine wine in his vault Proud of the riots after the Southport attack I’m proud we fought the fascists and I’m proud they’re coming back
Made in China from the finest polyester Twelve quid on eBay for two Not intended to intimidate, oh wait Coming to a lamppost near you
I got a new one [CD player] to listen to Evidence Based Punk Rock, the new Steve White & the Protest Family album, and it is worth the money on its own: it’s an absolute tour de force. They’re another great example of genre-fluidity — think Chas n Dave meets the Tom Robinson Band with a magnificently militant Ian Duryish manic street preacher on lead vocals. Hearty singalongs interspersed with Steve’s sharp, witty performance poetry: an incredibly incisive, thoroughly enjoyable CD which sums up our battered country in 2025 to a T. Definitely my album of the year so far.
Steve White & The Protest Family 