He owns The Grapes, TheEvening Standard, a collection of modern art He owns the i and TheIndependent, 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
Listen to me, in my new serious voice, We’re going to war; we don’t have a choice, So, here’s a picture of me, with my new serious hair In a serious tank, while our brave troops prepare. Pay attention to me and my new serious face, I’m ready to put Vladimir back in his place But don’t ask me questions, I’m here to be imperious And impress upon you that things are very serious, With my serious voice and my serious hair Because going to war is a serious affair. And while I offer the Prime Minister my full support I’ll be seriously ready when it’s time to cut him short.
There are ten different types of liar, he said And that was a lie as well He finds it as easy to tell an untruth As he does the truth to tell Of all the liars in all of the world He’s the most comfortable liar you’ve heard So, now we’re learning to live, Learning to live with the lies
Learning to live with the lies that we’re told Learning to live with the lies that we’re sold Learning to live Learning to live with the lies
45 minutes from mass destruction Millions of pounds on the side of a bus A programme of new hospital construction And then they say that it’s all about us Whenever there’s something they want us to do They just find it easier to hide the truth And now we’re learning to live Learning to live with the lies
Learning to live with the lies that we’re told Learning to live with the lies that we’re sold Learning to live Learning to live with the lies
There are big lies, little lies Dirty lies, white lies Lies to seem clean And lies to the Queen Smooth lies, compulsive lies Bold lies, deceptive lies Fake news, half truths And lying as routine Disinformation Exaggeration Lying as omission They’re a lying machine Weasel words, perjury Minimising, puffery Polite lies, paltering Their lying is obscene
Their lies are obscene
(So now we’re) Learning to live with the lies that we’re told Learning to live with the lies that we’re sold Learning to live Learning to live with the lies Learning to live with the lies that we’re told Learning to live with the lies that we’re sold Learning to live Learning to live with the lies
When the cut and thrust of politics is real When the cut and paste apologies are fake When facts matter less than what you feel And truth and lies are given equal weight
When “I get it” and “I’ll fix it” are a sham When extremists are emboldened by your act When you genuinely couldn’t give a damn And your policy does nothing but distract
When you use your privilege to tell a lie When you prey upon the people’s hopes and fears When a violent act is something that you buy Or else incite by very public smears
When contrition is a barely fleeting phase Before deceitful boasting rears its head once more When history is written by the days Each sentence worse than the one before
When you’re leading them without a destination When you’re leaving them to fend for themselves When self-confidence is your only salvation It’s time to start to draft your farewells
When the authorities are knocking at your door When your champions look the other way When your last-ditch distraction is a war Then accept that this big dog has had his day
Platinum Liz crowned Queen Camilla On the date her father died Showed her round the big council house Saying this is the palace in which you’ll reside
With his and hers bathrooms for you and King Charlie And his and hers butlers for your toothpaste squeezing His and hers medals, after all it’s your army And his and hers royal protection policing
Saying, “One day, all of this will be yours”
Ignore the liar down the road Who partied when I laid my Phil to rest He’s just a self-centred, selfish toad Who thinks he’s better than the rest
I hear he said it’ll take a Panzer division I dunno what possessed him He’s forgotten our family’s historical position And a German tank ain’t out of the question
He’s turned the governance of my green and pleasant land Into a reality TV show But the monarchy always remains When it’s time for the likes of him to go
Saying, “One day, all of this will be yours”
Platinum Liz crowned Queen Camilla On another day that the people were starving On a day they debated the cost of living And her Tory party were openly laughing
Platinum Liz crowned Queen Camilla Top of her list of jubilee honours While the people chose between food and warmth And the foodbanks now outnumbered McDonalds
Now the kids are singing, “Off with their heads”
Platinum Liz crowned Queen Camilla You know she’s got the means to end poverty But sharing’s never been in the job description When wealth and power is hereditary
Steve White & The Protest Family 