Frog-faced fascist Farage
Controls the company
Reform UK, well okay
But it’s just the BNP
Andrew p-word Parker
Canvassing in Clacton
Says he’s mates with Nigel
The fascist first team captain
Andrew wants to turn the mosque
Into a Wetherspoons
Reform UK’s at home today
To all the swivel-eyed loons
Homophobe George Jones
Hollers out the nonces
While Farage get a barrage
About his team’s responses
Frog-faced fascist Farage
Says he is dismayed
By the racist bed he made
In which he is now laid
Derek left Chingford
On the 8:29
He’s heading east
To the Essex sunshine
Dreaming a life
Like before he was born
He’s heading to Clacton
To vote Reform
Derek left Chingford
On the 8:44
Preferring CO15
To humble E4
The sunshine coast, he says
Is getting pretty warm
He’s heading to Clacton
To vote Reform
Derek left Chingford
On the 8:58
Tendring bound
He don’t wanna be late
He’s leaving East London
Avoiding the swarm
He’s heading to Clacton
To vote Reform
Derek left Chingford
On the 9:13
He knows the platform
Where he wants to be seen
He’s checked the forecast
He’s expecting a storm
He’s heading to Clacton
To vote Reform
Derek left Chingford
On the 9:28
It’s time, he said
To make Clacton great
The folks out there
Know how to conform
He’s heading to Clacton
To vote Reform
Derek left Chingford
On the 09:40
Change at Liverpool Street
He’ll be there shortly
He’s voting Reform
Giving Sunak the sack
He’s heading to Clacton
He ain’t coming back
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
He’s joining the race
He’s got it in the face
‘Spoons is the place
For a milkshake facial
Nigel don’t like it
Tommy tried to fight it
He’s gonna have to wipe it
A milkshake facial
No need to bash
The face of the fash
Just give ‘em a splash
Of a milkshake facial
Armed with bananas
Strawberries and blueberries
Here come the milkshake revolutionaries
Shit in the river
Shit in the mud
Shit in the tap water
Shit in your blood
Shit in Westminster
A shitty affair
Shit in your blood
Shit everywhere
Neither big nor special as it turns out
All in all, a bit mealy-mouthed
A quick ‘Free Palestine’ and can we move on
You wouldn’t expect the cleaner
And, well, the cleaner’s gone
Hanging from the rafters
Let’s talk about the issues
Let’s walk in my shoes
Never mind his shoes
Trigger the sample
Trigger the reaction
Take the booking
No call to action
Trigger the sample
Trigger the backing
The music’s great
The conviction is lacking
My dearest darling Natalie
I really like your style
Your tenacity defending
This green and pleasant isle
Your hard line on asylum seekers
Coming over here
Our match was made in heaven
That’s obvious, my dear
We’re so alike, dear Natalie
It’s very plain to see
Your votes against equalities
And for Voter ID
Those rights for workers, I agree
Will really have to go
And never mind the mishap
Shame on you and P&O
Dear Natalie, you’re very right
As far as I can see
Nobody could question
Our compatibility
And it’s fair, dear Natalie
To tap up Honest Bob
Your sex pest ex’s sentence
Clearly was a stitch-up job
I’m so glad you crossed the floor
Natalie, my dear
Welcome to the party
With all my love
Sir Kier
Susan Hall in a ULEZ car
Andy Street on the street
Conservatives out in Blackpool South
And rare in a council seat
Sunak’s disappointed
But says that the plan is working
Meanwhile back in Rochdale
George Galloway is lurking
(Pro-Palestine but anti-woke
It’s somewhat disconcerting)
Rotherham, confusingly
Is back in Liverpool
And Coronation Street’s in Yorkshire
But Teeside’s under the Baron’s rule
If you want all the stories
Laura only talks to Tories
Still squawking Stop The Boats
While just not getting many votes
There’s the seaside postcard transphobe
At their bawdy best
Please don’t take me seriously
It was only said in jest
Then there’s the sporting transphobe
The level playing field type
You can’t give back the muscles
Their explanatory gripe
The old school transphobe’s prone to say
It wasn’t like that in my day
When men were men and men were best
And you can probably guess the rest
And almost none were gay
Like the won’t-think-about-it transphobe
Who just doesn’t understand
It used to be so simple
You’re a woman or you’re a man
And the it’s-just-common-sense transphobe
Because everything’s binary
Two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet
Just common sense you see
And then the internet transphobe
The Rowlings and Linehans
Dead name campaigns are their domain
Denying that your trans
Pick your type, there’s more than two
And each demands to have a say
You might call it a spectrum
Which transphobe will you meet today?
The Queen said pace yourself
But in the end she chased herself
Out of office fast as lettuce could rot
It’s so unfair she died
And getting groceries supplied
Was so much harder with the new job that she’d got
The Downing Street fleas
Would’ve tanked Air BnB’s
Johnson’s dog must’ve had quite a lot
And there was nobody there
To make appointments for her hair
To help her stop it from getting in a knot
She said that it was worse
The strings on the public purse
Despite her own ten years in the slot
And took no interest in the lives
Of presidents’ wives
There’s only so much info you can swot
When she had her say
She made Friday budget day
And gave her enemies the whole weekend to plot
Like a game of Tetris
She inevitably let this
Keep her up before removing Kwasi’s spot
And Hunt did not pick up
When she tried to ring him up
Because her number was one that he’d forgot
And now she’s got a book out
Better keep a look out
A bestseller I suspect that it is not
Steve White & The Protest Family 