Suella dreams of deportation
Traffic to another nation
Cruelty to refugees
Her obsession, how did we
Ever end up here?
Rachel waiting in the wings
Hums the tune Suella sings
Cruelty to refugees
Shadow policy with speed
Don’t ever end up here
Tag: politics
Truss’s Conference
She hit the ground
Forgot to run
Squeezed families
And banged the dumb
The lady’s not for
Oh, she did
On crazy Kwasi’s
Top rate quid
(Not his fault either
That’s Chris Philp
It’s to the Chief Sec
That they tilt)
Now benefits
And mortgages
Got one of those
Ain’t you Liz?
The lady’s not for
Oh, she’s done
She hit the ground
Forgot to run
Liz’s Pie
Liz’s pie is sliced unevenly
Liz is slicing fast and greedily
The biggest slices unbelievably
To the richest irretrievably
Liz’s pie is sliced unevenly
Liz is slicing hard and grievously
The slimmest slices butchered evilly
To those who need them most appreciably
Liz’s pie is sliced unevenly
Equality is not for her you see
Liz trusts in trickle-down unreasonably
So Liz’s pie is sliced unevenly
Think Tank
Think tank
Think tank
Take it to the brink tank
Take a picture in a tank
And send it to the press
Think tank
Think tank
Nod and a wink tank
Shorting city pound tank
The bank is not impressed
Think tank
Think tank
Let the country sink tank
They’re calling it a Kwar-tank
He’s calling it success
Think tank
Think tank
Theories that stink tank
She’ll be gone in a blink tank
What a bloody mess
Collective Nouns
A murder of crows
A compendium of stories
A parliament of owls
An incompetence of Tories
A reverence of vicars
A selection of alternatives
A righteousness of clergymen
A corruption of Conservatives
An ambush of tigers
An embarrassment of superlatives
A pride of lions
A disgrace of Conservatives
A cartload of chimpanzees
A happiness of glories
A band of gorillas
A circus of Tories
A Lift to the Food Bank From Iain Duncan Smith
I got a lift to the food bank from Iain Duncan Smith
Driving a vintage British sports car
A Morgan Plus Four powered by a German engine
Goes from nought to Brexit in under sixty seconds
“I say” he said to me “Fine day for a spin”
“Isn’t the food bank just a wonderful thing”
“And now there’s even more of them than ever”
He had the radio tuned to LBC
A phone-in about prices
And the cost-of-living crisis
He said “We’ll have to suck it up, I’m afraid”
“It’s not our fault there’s a war in Ukraine”
“And I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s a price worth paying.”
As we passed the war memorial
And poppies on the road signs
I tried to say that his opinion probably wasn’t mine
But with the top down he missed what I was saying
I got a lift to the foodbank from Iain Duncan Smith
Driving a vintage British sports car
With a manual gearbox (sovereignty over transmission)
And an active exhaust in full hot air position
So how come he happened to be going my way?
Well, that’s where you’ll find all his constituents these days
Liz and the Button
Liz is ready to press the button
And usher in global annihilation
It’s an important duty, says she
I see it as an expectation
Liz is ready to press the button
It’s on her list of things to do
It’s a way to fix the climate crisis
And sort your gas bill woes out too
Liz is ready to press the button
Fearlessly without hesitation
A step up from a selfie in a tank
Here’s me with the tools of obliteration
Liz is ready to press the button
And Vlad’s alert level just went up
Is mutually assured destruction
What they meant by levelling up?
When the Sun Goes Down
She had to stop watching the news when she became the news
Another poverty safari into a lifestyle she didn’t choose
She hardly has the lights on at this time of year
And like the feeling going around
She’s feeling like she’s gonna drown
And she don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
Blackouts to hide from bailiffs rather than warplanes
But it’s war just the same, in all but name, with a wartime price to be paid
And something to eat will have to wait until tomorrow now
‘Cause like the feeling going around
She’s feeling like she’s gonna drown
And she don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
Fat Cats
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
They’re talking ‘bout the price of gas
They say handouts are kinda crass
The sinking ship’s still fulla rats
Who like to think they’re friends with cats
(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
They’re talking ‘bout the price of you
The pay rise that you’re due
They’re telling you to join the queue
For the credit card they overdrew
(And)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
If in the morning they were all gone
Everyone would see the con
If the billionaires had upped and run
All the work would still get done
(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
They’re literally printing money (not literally)
Their uplands are always sunny
While the country descends into poverty
They’re all on fuckin’ holiday
(‘Cause)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
The Day We Kicked the Fascists Out of Walthamstow
This September, we’ll celebrate ten years since we drove the fascists out of Walthamstow.
I remember walking up a packed Hoe Street, past closed and shuttered shopfronts, with the notable exception of the Rose & Crown of course, thinking “This is big”, but it wasn’t until we got to Bell Corner that I realised quite how big. Over four thousand local people, anti-fascists and trade unionists had turned up to oppose the racist EDL who had been escorted to Blackhorse Road with the intention of marching through our community to a rally outside the Magistrates Court and whose numbers barely troubled two hundred.
Met with opposition from local people from the moment they set foot outside the tube station, their route blocked by thousands of us at a key junction, forced into the back streets and literally wetting themselves in a police kettle in Farnan Avenue, and their leaders surrounded by anti-fascists in Forest Road, it’s fair to say that that Tommy Robinson and co. did not have a good day.
Like Roger says, most people aren’t racist.
To mark the anniversary, there’s a whole series of events which can be found here, including us playing a show at the Trades Hall, with tickets available here.
In honour of the occasion, we’re also re-releasing the Double B-Side, The Day We Kicked The Fascists Out Of Walthamstow (Graham Larkbey & The Escapees) c/w No Pasaran In E17 (Steve White & The Protest Family). It’s a free download and you can find it here.
Steve White & The Protest Family 