Trouble at the Passport Office
Privatise the arse off it
Run it for my pals’ profit
A one-trick Tory cries
Like Mogg he wants you at your desk
Who’s haunting corridors obsessed
His sarcastic notes grotesque
Bullying in disguise
‘Cause they privatised the arse off the trains
The cars and the buses and the planes
The gas the electric the phones and the drains
The post and the college of flames
And if you’re still waiting for a visa from Ukraine
They privatised the arse off that too
Just sayin’
Adolf Hitler, Mickey Mouse
Registered at Companies House
Own empty homes in royal parks
For kleptocrats and oligarchs
She sells sea shell companies
That buy Mayfair properties
At market rate and then a half
To give their Russian dough a bath
‘Cause Thatcher’s big bang economics
Made the filthy rich a promise
Your anonymity’s guaranteed
In our offshore industry
We’ll help you manage reputation
Ignore the odd defenestration
So if your money’s really bad
Bring soap and towels to Londongrad
Canterbury’s putting up resistance
To the ungodly policy of offshore asylum
Love thy neighbour but only from a distance
Sounding Johnson’s Operation Red Meat siren
But Castle’s voice from the pews cried we tithed for our views
And we don’t like change around here
You shouldn’t get to choose your country of refuge
And Rwanda’s very nice this time of year we hear
So Secretary Patel issued ministerial direction
To whistle up the dog a fascist bone
Of immigration by racial selection
A one-way ticket or a middle-class home
More folk will die of Covid in 2022
Than seek asylum in this green and pleasant land
Swiftly and humanely removed is the clue
To the Easter politics of the damned
Canterbury’s putting up resistance
But Johnson and Patel just say screw ya
We’re loving our neighbours but only at a distance
And Mogg tweeted Alleluia
Safer in a war zone
Than strolling round his own home
Spaffer’s on walkabout in Ukraine
He really has a talent
For reputation management
A cock-up covering caper once again
But if he has a second
He should take a trip to Yemen
And watch British bombs being dropped by British planes
Or if he’s of a mind
Walkabout in Palestine
And contemplate their sovereign state claim
‘Cause if he’s safer in a war zone
Than strolling round his own home
There’s lots of war for him to try and game
They’re crying about woke
They’re crying she’s a bloke
They’re crying ‘bout appendages
The vestiges of yesterdays
They’re crying about words
That they think are absurd
They’re crying ‘bout the language
Being savaged for the damaged
It’s bin bags
Bin bags
It’s just bin bags
Bin bags
They’re crying about Bragg
They think that it’s a drag
That he’s standing with the persecuted
Most disputed and excluded
They’re crying about caring
And storytelling scaring
They’re crying ‘bout the activists
Who won’t assist the anti-ists
It’s bin bags
Bin bags
It’s just bin bags
Bin bags
They said you couldn’t call ‘em
By the colour that they are
They said it was the looney lefties
Who had gone too far
They say that what goes around
Comes around again
And now it’s gender critical, it’s
You can’t call it’s
Minds are small, it’s
Bin bags
Bin bags
It’s just bin bags
Bin bags
They don’t like their lives disrupted
Opinions deconstructed
To understand it’s complicated
Other people should be feted
Not just accommodated
And your words can show that you care
Your words can show that you care
It’s bin bags
Bin bags
It’s just bin bags
Bin bags
Bin bags
When is it over?
It’s over today
What on earth do you mean, said he
She said, it’s not gone away
But it’s over today
Because tests are no longer free
As a fool once said
In the time that he led
If you don’t look, then you won’t see
So, it’s over today
Without going away
Because tests are no longer free
Gangster government for gangster bosses
Cutting their losses
With jobs and rights
Gangster government for gangster firms
Ripping up terms
To DP’s delight
Gangster governments for gangster companies
P&O Ferries
It ain’t alright
Gangster government’s crocodile tears
As it appears
They knew that night
Gangster government’s Brittania Unchained
Holds workers in disdain
That’s the Tory right
Gangster government for gangster oligarchs
Swimming with the sharks
Forgetting that they bite
Gangster government for gangster lobbies
Ignoring the bodies
With indifferent spite
He owns The Grapes, The Evening Standard, a collection of modern art
He owns the i and The Independent, although the Saudis now own part
He had a pet wolf called Boris, named after Yeltsin, they say
He owns a house in the grounds of Hampton Court Palace, and is a Baron of down that way
Yes, he’s the Baron of Hampton, in Richmond-upon-Thames
Because he counts Boris Johnson amongst his friends
(Who overruled concerns about security)
And his dad used to be in the KGB
Armchair generals
Firing other people’s bullets
With other people’s sons
Express sympathy
With the refugee
Who would be welcome here
If they weren’t such a risk to national insecurity
And Lincolnshire is full, says Leigh
Even if they’re willing to pick fruit
What has Liz’s dressing-up box
Got for us today?
Fighter pilot? Tank commander?
Recruiter for La Légion étrangère?
She’s unlikely to dress to protest
Or to campaign against the war
That’s what the other lot are for
The Minister for Instagram will give up glam
But only for a message of might
She wants you to fight
Don’t let her tell you that it’s simple
While the policy to sanction
Fails to seize a single yacht or mansion
Despite the fighting talk
Trying to be the hawkest hawk
It’s easier to call to arms
Than boycott wealthy friends
As a wise man once said
A bayonet is a weapon
With a worker at both ends
His campaign’s funded in roubles
He plays tennis with some Russian folk
He’s almost completely without scruples
And he’s snorting Donald’s coke
Now he’s lining up a barrage of sanctions
Its Churchill he’s trying to invoke
He’s getting a piece of the action
And snorting Donald’s coke
Wallpaper – move on
Parties – move on
Jimmy Saville – move on
He’s snorting Donald’s coke
He’s a fan of foie gras and fur
He don’t care how the poor buggers croak
An opportunity Brexit conferred
While he was snorting Donald’s coke
Pounds, shillings, and pence
Don’t matter if you’re broke
Proposed by the Minister of Past Tense
Who’s been snorting Donald’s coke
Wallpaper – move on
Parties – move on
Jimmy Saville – move on
He’s snorting Donald’s coke
Keep keen eyes in the crow’s nest
He knows the system’s broke
Don’t worry about who can afford a test
While you’re snorting Donald’s coke
Here’s another strategic lie
Just call the dissenters woke
Dead cat meet table; ball, eye: bye, bye
He’s snorting Donald’s coke
Wallpaper – move on
Parties – move on
Jimmy Saville – move on
He’s snorting Donald’s coke
Steve White & The Protest Family 