Tag: politics

Put Up Shut Up Britain Part Six

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
To Put Up Shut Up Britain
To Put Up Shut Up Britain
To Put Up Shut Up Britain

They’re dying on trolleys, dying in chairs
Dying in corridors like nobody cares
And still we sing God bless
God bless the NHS
And still we sing God bless
God bless the NHS
‘Cause when they’ve taken that away
There’s really nothing left

Welcome…

Sooner or later it’s someone you know
Soon you’re as low as you can go
Your house, your street, your town
They’re burning it down
Your house, your street, your town
They’re burning it down
Burn it down

Welcome…

How do we measure a person by their worth
When it’s never been easier to be a TERF
And the only thing that power’s used for
Is persecuting a culture war
While protest singers from sea
To shining sea
Are sharpening their pencils
Getting ready for World War Three

Welcome…

Willy’s sending dick pics, getting into conflicts
Selling out his mates to cover up his clicks
But nothing’s bad enough to get him fired
His loyalty is all that is required
And here’s a map of the shit in your river
Here’s a map of the sewage outflow
Here’s where the shit is delivered
Here’s where your opinion can go

Welcome…

Put your conscience aside, we’re still arming genocide
Blind-eyed to the thousands who died
Blind-eyed to the thousands who died
Blind eyes for the people that die
And welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Where the drones get built and the profits hidden
Get off the statue, get on the plane
And don’t you dare ever complain

Welcome…

Welcome…

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Eating People

When the economy won’t grow
And there’s nowhere else to go
It’s not considered evil
For the rich to just eat people

They don’t want to eat you up
But over runneth their cup
And when it’s this unequal
The rich will just eat people

They can’t live in all the houses
But they can own all the houses
Which turns out to be legal
When the rich start eating people

And when the rich start eating people
Some of them will be quite gleeful
Saying it’s a rising tide
We’re just waiting for our ride

Which of course will never come
Because when all’s said and done
It’s simply medieval
For the rich to just eat people

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Put Up Shut Up Britain (Part Five)

In solidarity with our comrades at the NEU campaigning against agencies offshoring millions of pounds in profit made in the supply teacher ‘market’. With thanks to Reel News for the film.

It takes a village to raise a child
But an agency to profit
A government to turn a blind eye
A trade union to stop it
‘Cause the world keeps turning on education
And you’d think an educated nation
Wouldn’t settle for an NQT
Who comes with a hefty fee

It takes a village to raise a child
But an agency to profit
Like some kinda nightmare-ish
Capitalist project
Where the money that’s supposed to circle
Goes in a straight line instead
From agency to shell company
To hedge fund, virtually tax-free

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

It takes a village to raise a child
But an agency to profit
In a system that prefers your dough
In a rich man’s pocket
While the Minister, dear God
Declares she’s doing a “fucking good job”
A good job fucking with it, more like
No wonder the teachers go on strike

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

It takes a village to raise a child
But Teaching Personnel to profit
A subsidiary of Hood TopCo
Whose dividend’s set to rocket
And Simply Ed’s at it too
A million quid off me and you
To turn a temp’ry teacher
Into shareholder value

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

It takes a village to raise a child
But an agency to profit
By managing supply
It’s time we made ‘em stop it

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

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Unlucky Street

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Tags in the litter
A mattress in the river
Stand and deliver
Throw up a pigeon’s dinner

On front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

Robbery’s a failure
Antisocial behaviour
Jesus Christ our saviour
Do us all a favour

Tags in the litter
A mattress in the river
Stand and deliver
Throw up a pigeon’s dinner

On front garden sofas
Poverty sarcomas
Everyone you know does
A shrug of the shoulders

At fly tipped
Dog shit
County lines
Conflict

High crime
Traffic fine
Sex attacks
And decline

Phone shop
Vape shop
Chicken shop
Bookies

It used to be so sweet
Now it’s Unlucky Street

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Refugees’ Luggage

They came with orders
And transporters
Souls with borders
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

Tentative roots in a new community
Ripped out fast with the impunity
Of cruelty to the refugee
Being Party policy
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

From one uncaring mean hotel
To the next uncaring mean hotel
No pleased as man with man to dwell
No fond farewell
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

What you can carry’s what you can bring
What’s left behind you know they’ll sling
Don’t you dare say a fucking thing
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go

And all that’s left is the refugees’ luggage
That the hotel will throw in the bin
This is England this is right now
These are the fascists that you voted in

Full story here

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Being a Princess Ain’t a Job

On your own is not a mob
Neat and tidy ain’t a slob
A perfect sphere is not a blob (or a glob)
Looking up is not a snob
Shortened Richard isn’t Bob
A sticking plaster ain’t a swab
A bread roll is not a cob*
A single pulse is not a throb
A fast ball is not a lob
Quietly spoken ain’t a gob
Me in it thou shalt not dob
The grill or oven ain’t a hob
The same suit’s king is not his nob
A giggle clearly ain’t a sob
Being a princess ain’t a job

*Yeah, I know

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Sunak’s War

Red Sea rebels
Holding up shipping
That’s a war to get on board
Excitedly says Rishi
A blind eye for genocide
But woe betide the other side
When the flow of capital
Starts slipping

We need our containers
Our box fresh trainers
Our TV’s deep freeze David Bowie LP’s
We can’t afford for them
To go missing

So now we’re bombing Yemen
He says in self-defence
Because a trip around the Cape
Of Good Hope is an expense
That the City boys
Would rather be skipping

Welcome to his Falklands
His khaki election
The flag-wrapped PM
Of navigation protection
The enemy of far enough away
Insurrection
Happy is the bloody hand
That’s dripping

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