From the excoriating take down of the unhinged right on Bin Bags to the Duryesque Cockney wordplay of title track Trickle Down Town with it’s refrain of “only shit trickles down”, Steve and his Protest Family offer more opposition in 43 minutes than Starmer and his gang of wannabe Tories have offered in the last 3 years.
From four hour waits for ambulances to dumping toxic and human waste into our rivers Steve chronicles the state of the nation like a furious Billy Bragg fronting Chumbawumba.
The years in prison were not kind to Goliath He grew smaller and weaker while David grew strong His castles kicked over; his crop destroyed before him It weighed heavy on Goliath how it had gone so wrong
So, he stood and he shouted at the ranks of Israel Spoke of the river and the sea, words laden with dread David called for his sling and selected five stones He’d settle for no less now than Goliath’s head
He turned out the lights in Goliath’s prison Gave notice of Goliath’s imminent death Cut off supplies of food, fuel and water David crossed the line and the world held its breath
Just Stop Oil getting on a plane Gap year protest I hear you all complain But you know she’s right and she has a life too What exactly do you think that she’s supposed to do Affected by the issues, here’s a helpline you can ring It might make you feel better, but it won’t change a damn thing
Not a damn thing
You could be more mindful, here’s a book to colour in But that won’t stop the fascism they’re tryin’ to usher in Or you could do some yoga, do a downward dog or two Take a deep breath and welcome in the new you Affected by the issues, here’s a helpline you can ring It might make you feel better, but it won’t change a damn thing
Not a damn thing Not a damn thing
It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything…. (Yes, we can)
One has got the eyes, the other’s got the stare There ain’t a fag paper between them to be fair They ain’t on your side, you know this much is true They ain’t on your side, so what you gonna do Affected by the issues, here’s a helpline you can ring It might make you feel better, but it won’t change a damn thing
Not a damn thing Not a damn thing
They won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything They won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything…yes, we can
How about some CBT or pop a pill or two How about you drown it out in your choice of booze Maybe you could meditate, and it would be OK Maybe if we stick together there’s a better way Affected by the issues, here’s a helpline you can ring It might make you feel better, but it won’t change a damn thing
Not a damn thing Not a damn thing
It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything…yes, we can
Just Stop Oil getting on a plane Just Stop Oil glued to the road again You say the wrong tactics at the wrong time But what are you prepared to do to combat climate crime Affected by the issues, here’s a helpline you can ring It might make you feel better, but it won’t change a damn thing
Not a damn thing Not a damn thing
It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything It won’t change a damn thing, but we can change anything…yes, we can
Not a damn thing Not a damn thing Not a damn thing Not a damn thing
They rhymed them right They rhymed them wrong They rhymed in poetry and song And when they saw things were not fair They’d rhyme and oft times even swear
They rhymed them left They rhymed them right They rhymed them up They rhymed them down They rhymed by day They rhymed by night They rhymed the flat cap and the crown
Yes, rhymed of princes Rhymed of kings And rhymed of more important things Like rhymes of sand and outward tides They rhymed as means of taking sides
They rhymed in anger Rhymed in sorrow Rhymed the new With rhymes they’d borrow Rhymed with rage And with frustration Rhymed with wit And devastation
Armed with punches wrapped in rhyme Seemed they were rhyming all the time So when folk said, why don’t you stop Your rhyming’s just a lefty sop They said, it’s in our DNA And rhymed until they went away
I’ll tell you this and tell it true Their rhymes could turn you red from blue Their rhymes were like a megaphone Their rhymes said you are not alone
They might not rhyme you rich from poor They might not rhyme you debt from debtor But when you felt it hit the floor They’d rhyme until it all felt better
In the kingdom of the blind A one-eyed man is king He wears a tricorn hat And his right arm’s just a sling They’ll pickle him in brandy When his last race is run And he’s shagging Lady Hamilton In a pub they call The Gun
His pals in the West Indies Are keen on keeping slaves That damnable Wilberforce Our one-eyed hero raves I’ll fight him with both arm and tongue The lifestyle he betrays I’m old school colonialist And Britannia rules the waves
In the kingdom of the blind A one-eyed man is king He wears a tricorn hat And his right arm’s just a sling One day there’ll be a column Upon which he’ll proudly stand And the blind eye will be ours In this green and pleasant land
Will London elect a racist mayor In Susan, who doesn’t care For carnival, says it’s hell Is anti-#BLM as well And in supporting Donald Trump Tried to give Sadiq the hump
Susan, known to opine On black folks and the cause of crime Says she will hunt down and lock up With a special team set up
Safer With Susan the tagline screams Makes you wonder from whom she means
Derek wants his country back It’ll be in the last place that he looks It won’t be on the bookshelf Nestled amongst the books Or in the cupboard under the stairs Behind the coats on hooks It won’t be in the kitchen Being hidden by the cooks It won’t be wedged in any crannies Nor in any nooks It won’t be floating in rivers Streams, canals or brooks Or up a tree, cached away By magpies, crows or rooks It won’t be missing legitimately Or stolen by some crooks Or on holiday in Israel Staying on a kibbutz It won’t be waiting patiently Or on tenterhooks It won’t be in the hunting lodge Or on the plain it overlooks It’s not hovering in helicopters Be they Sikorskies or Chinooks Or in the chicken shed Laying with the chooks Derek wants his country back He’s tearing out his hair But unfortunately for Derek It was never really there
Refugees on barges Jeering little Farages When Britannia ruled the waves James Bibby was transporting slaves Meanwhile humanitarians Are Nick Ferrari’s enemy
Refugees on prison ships Suella’s bag of cruel tricks Singing Rule Britannia Let’s make you all unhappier Somewhere there’s a statue That needs chucking in the sea
Rat Run Rishi’s put his foot to the floor Rat Run Rishi loves the motorist more Low traffic neighbourhoods, he doesn’t think we should He’s bringing high traffic back to the neighbourhood Where we’ve got shit in the water, grit in the air We’ve got the top down, got the wind in our hair The freedom of the highway, the myth that sells you cars While the freedom of the skies is his, not ours ‘Cause Rishi’s commute is in a luxury chopper Not in the morning rush like your average shopper Meanwhile in the countryside, his kids breathe clean, fresh air He’s on the side of motorists, Rishi doesn’t care
Steve White & The Protest Family 