Tag: politics

Voting Fascist

I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
Tell me what’s the difference between you and me
And why you would vote for a fascist

Your avenues are like our wide streets
Our estates are made from the same concrete
Like the pubs and shops where people meet
So why would you vote for a fascist

I come from the city of a hundred tongues
I come from the city to which everyone comes
No need to see the world when the world comes here
While you live in fear

Don’t live in fear

‘Cos it’s not perfect
Nothing ever is
But if we work it
Takes less than it gives
If you come from the place where everybody lives
You’d never vote for a fascist

I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
Tell me what’s the difference between you and me
And why you would vote for a fascist

Our children’s problems are the same as yours
The same woes behind the same front doors
The same kids, the same rich men’s wars
So why would you vote for a fascist

I come from the city that forgets where you are from
I come from the city where you just belong
The city that says everything is here
While you live in fear

Don’t live in fear

‘Cos it’s not perfect
Nothing ever is
But if we work it
Takes less than it gives
If you come from the place where everybody lives
You’d never vote for a fascist

And we hear it
When the fascist lies
We see his greed
It’s no surprise
A rich man set to better rich men’s lives
So, I’d never vote for a fascist
Never vote for a fascist

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Havering

If you climb a lamppost in Romford
You can see Clacton-on-Sea
The roundabouts all lead to Essex
Where the punters say they’d rather be

Paying their taxes in crypto
Or rolls of used twenty-pound notes
A borough landlocked celebrating
How now they can stop the boats

If you climb a lamppost in Romford
You can see Clacton-on-Sea
Where give ‘em a chance to fuck it all up
Is the only hope there seems to be

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A Royal Visit

The men who would be king
More than anything
By birthright, exercise of might
Or ear-bloodied “fight, fight, fight”
Shake hands for the press clips
Lend their names to battle ships
Share sotto voce quips
Of lives so obscenely rich
There are no lengths to which
They will not go
To protect the status quo
So, while the radio
Squawks “Awks!”
The money talks
Eats lavish dinners
Knows who are the real winners
Knows it’s them not us
Chinks glasses while you fuss
T’was ever thus
But power won at point of sword
Or from a populace so bored
Of being told they can’t afford
Their just reward
Suggests; protests
That a royal visit’s best ignored

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Mandy

In the Suburb, you never had to struggle
And Mandy never went without
Mandy, I’m telling you, is trouble
The kind that the papers talk about
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

If Mandy thinks you’re good for the money
Mandy’s favour comes at a price
A big loan buys you a blind eye
But only ‘til Mandy rolls the dice
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

Mandy’s got friends in high places
Mandy and friends are in the files
Sharks teeth and snakes faces
Mandy’s got friends who are paedophiles
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

Mandy loves the power behind the throne
Mandy loves a puppet to install
Mandy’s got the next one on the phone
Mandy shrugs and governments fall
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

Your secrets are not safe with Mandy
Mandy will put them up for sale
If you get into bed with Mandy
You might just join Mandy in jail
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

Mandy’s got friends in high places
Mandy and friends are in the files
Sharks teeth and snakes faces
Mandy’s got friends who are paedophiles
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy
So, don’t get involved
Don’t get involved with Mandy

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St. George’s Day

The patron saint of roundabouts
Zip-tied flags and far-right louts
The patron saint of Stop The Boats
And disaffected Brexit votes

The patron saint of LBC
GB News and Talk TV
The saint of plain hostility
To anyone who ain’t like me

The patron saint of wooden crosses
Crumbling and rotten
The patron saint of you can’t have it
Races to the bottom

The patron saint of two world wars
And one lousy world cup
Where are you now our dear St George
How badly did you fuck it up?

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A Poem For Easter

Jesus, said Jesus, awake on the cross
What d’you have to go and summon Satan for?
I’m supposed to sleep in for a couple of days
But now there’s all this chaos and war

And he’s everywhere, TV and radio
Right across the social media shitshow
Wherever your midnight doom scrolling might go
With a bunch of leering demons in tow

Wait, you expected hellfire and brimstone
With a laptop and a mobile phone?
C’mon, horns and hooves are a bit mediaeval
These days he manifests as real estate evil

With a raging, rambling, boiling sea of lies
And an infernal wardrobe full of red ties
Every time he smiles a Gazan baby dies
And he has nothing but greed in his eyes

Jesus, said Jesus, awake on the cross
You let out death, famine, conquest and war
You say you’re Christians, but you don’t care for the poor
What d’you have to go and summon Satan for?

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John The Revelator

John the Revelator saw the Son of Man
With seven stars and seven lampstands
Eyes of fire and hair of wool
Voice like a roaring waterfall
He said I was dead but now I’m alive
Do you want to walk with me in the light
If you have ears, then hear my cry
The Devil wears a long red tie

John the Revelator saw God on his throne
With a face that shone like a precious stone
Twenty-four elders in crowns of gold
Seven lit torches so the story’s told
Around the throne on each of its sides
A lion, a bull, an eagle in flight
Each creature covered in eyes
To better see the Devil in a long red tie

John the Revelator saw the lamb and the scroll
Saw the lamb die and saw him made whole
Saw the lamb break the seven seals
Saw the horses heard the trumpet peals
Hail and fire, a sea of blood
Poisoned water and the sun was struck
The seventh trumpet signalled time
For the Devil in the long red tie

John the Revelator saw the clouds blacken
Saw the sky filled with a great red dragon
Seven heads with a crown on each one
Chased the woman with the dress made from the sun
John the Revelator saw it happen
John the Revelator saw the Great Red Dragon
Ten horns and fourteen eyes
The dragon wore a long red tie

John saw a beast rise from the sea
And the beast’s name was Blasphemy
Ten horns on seven heads held high
Blasphemy wore a long red tie
John saw a beast rise from the earth
Made everybody praise the first beast’s worth
Made fire rain from the sky
The beast wore a long red tie

The beast of the earth risen from slumber
Made the people wear its mark or its number
Forbidding them to sell or buy
Unless they wore a long red tie

John saw a lake of sulphur and fire
In which to cast the Devil and Liar
Eternal torment dispensed from on high
For the Devil in the long red tie
For the Devil in the long red tie
For the Devil in the long red tie

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Baking For Billionaires

The farmer grows the wheat
The farmer sows the seeds
The farmer tills and harvests
To meet the baker’s needs

The miller grinds the wheat
The straw and chaff she’ll scour
Separating germ and bran
To make the baker’s flour

Meanwhile you bake
The cake that they take
And crumbs are all they say
Your cake is worth

The bigger the cake
The more crumbs it makes
And that’s the way they say
That baking works

The farmer grows the beet
Made ready to eat
The baker needs the sugar
To keep the baking sweet

Of butter, milk, and eggs
It’s often left unsaid
That cruelty concedes
To what the baker needs

Meanwhile you bake
The cake that they take
And crumbs are all they say
Your cake is worth

The bigger the cake
The more crumbs it makes
And that’s the way they say
That baking works

The cake keeps getting bigger
While the same old crumbs fall down
The baker’s getting thinner
It’s the same all round the town

The cake keeps getting bigger
But the table’s getting higher
The baker’s getting thinner
And the bakery’s on fire

Meanwhile you bake
The cake that they take
And crumbs are all they say
Your cake is worth

The bigger the cake
The more crumbs it makes
And that’s the way they say
That baking works

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Nigel The Talking Frog

Nigel the talking frog’s coin-operated
A cameo Nazi for just a few quid
Birthday greetings for the racist on a budget
Send your pal a Kick-‘Em-Out Farage vid

Nigel the talking frog’s coin-operated
A cameo Nazi bought and paid for
What he’d say for free, he says for a fee
The grift that the internet was made for

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