Tag: politics

Walthamstow Wide Awake

What ya gonna do when Little Tommy comes to town
Stand your ground
They shall not pass

What ya gonna do second time around
Stand your ground
And hold fast

What ya gonna do
When Nigel calls a riot
He’s only askin’ questions
And you ain’t keeping quiet
When the fascists come to town
Stand your ground and hold fast
They shall not pass

From 1914 to Bell Corner
To Hoe Street in the calm summer sun
Walthamstow wide awake
Walthamstow awake and watch ‘em run

What you gonna do while Little Tommy is away
Raise a glass
And have a laugh

What you gonna do while Little Tommy is away
Stay awake
And hold fast

Don’t be a stay at home Stella
Don’t give yourself a dilemma
When the fascists come to town
The streets are where you should be found,
So hold fast, they shall not pass

From 1914 to Bell Corner
To Hoe Street in the calm summer sun
Walthamstow wide awake
Walthamstow awake and watch ‘em run

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The Toilet Police

Jakey’s got a new job
Care of that Supreme Court mob
What’s inside your boxers or briefs?
Jakey’s joined the toilet police

Jakey’s simply upholding the act
He needs to see your biological fact
He’s got his eye on your tomboy niece
Jakey’s joined the toilet police

An orderly queue, if you please
At the checkpoint for the Ladies
In his jackboots and company fleece
Jakey’s joined the toilet police

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Let Him Go

They said it would be a tragedy
They said you can never let him leave
If you do, he’ll take it all away
You can’t do without him, they say

He’s got the broadest shoulders
He’s got the longest legs
He says that he’s leaving
You don’t need him, let him go

Your mother said that there was life before him
Your mother said that there’d be life again
The folks who say that you just can’t ignore him
Just don’t want it happening to them

He’s got the broadest shoulders
He’s got the longest legs
He says that he’s leaving
You don’t need him, let him go

He might go but his palaces remain
He might go but the factory is stayin’
Anything that’s fixed in the ground
Will still be here when he ain’t around

He’s got the broadest shoulders
He’s got the longest legs
He says that he’s leaving
You don’t need him, let him go
He says that he’s leaving
You don’t need him, let him go

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The New Austerity Inn: The Ramp

Rachel took the ramp away.

“Happy hour is over,” she said. “If you can’t get into The New Austerity Inn unaided, then maybe this isn’t the pub for you.”

Liz, the HR manager from the brewery, nodded in agreement, and suggested shutting the pub during the day. “This is the pub of work,” she said. “People who can work, must work, and shouldn’t be coming in here instead.”

Rachel looked around her. Trade was down and the beer was going sour. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what we’ll do.”

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Work!

Work harder, he said
Work ‘til you’re dead
We’re the party of work
And we’re gonna party hard

Work harder, he said
Or you’re better off dead
We can help you with that
If you want

Work!
Work!
Work!
Work!

We’re the party of work and we’re gonna party hard
We’re the party of work and we’re gonna party hard
We’re the party of work and we’re gonna party hard
And if you don’t like it
We’re gonna help you to starve

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Wearing Margaret’s Clothes

He’s got a skirt suit in cobalt blue
He’s got a handbag and pearls too
His blouse is fastened with a pussy bow
He says those benefits will have to go

He’s got a twin set and a silk scarf
His skirt is tailored to mid-calf
He ain’t got a single hair out of place
His new austerity is picking up pace

He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes

He’s got a power suit from Aquascutum
Court shoes to better boot ‘em
Carmen rollers and shoulder pads
Keeping the tax down for the lads

He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes

He’s got a hat that Gordon said leave inside
A bag that Launer of London supplied
There are other colours but blue will do
And he’ll abandon you too

He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes
He’s wearing Margaret’s clothes

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Cats, Dogs, Transgender Mice

Of course there was no funding for transgender mice, it was for transgenic mice, but what does the truth matter when there’s culture wars to be fought. Meanwhile in Springfield, Ohio…

Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
And the big ginger cat ain’t very nice

The cats say a mouse born with a penis
That mouse can never be a Venus

While the dogs say a mouse born under the wrong star
Has the right to be the mouse that they really are

Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
And the big ginger cat ain’t very nice

In Springfield, they’re eating the cats

The cats won’t share their litter tray
With a mouse who might not go that way

The dogs are cool, there’s nothing amiss
With a mouse who might just need to take a piss

Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
And the big ginger cat ain’t very nice

In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs

The cats are like, eight million dollars
Unlimited catnip and diamante collars

The dogs are like, eight million bucks, but hey
We’d have buried it in the garden anyway

Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
And the big ginger cat ain’t very nice

In Springfield, nobody eats the mice

Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
Cats, dogs, transgender mice
And the big ginger cat ain’t very nice

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A Letter From The King

Does it smell nice?
A letter from the king
Of scented ink, that kind of thing
Mellifluous craft and flowery word
Meticulously well-observed

Or does it smell of dusty palaces and old men
Tainted by the mouldering stench of then
Sparse script spiked with iron gall
As if the king should have to write at all

How tightly clenched, the royal jaw
How white-knuckled, the royal paw
Nib mashed to page, the words appear
One so looks forward to your second visit here

Behold, for sure, a regal thing
But what’s that smell?
A letter from the king

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Piñata Economics

Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
So when her children had children and nothing had changed
She said, it’s time to play a new game

Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

The piñata had grown to a terrifying size
It stared at the children with malevolent eyes
With all the richest treasures within
How do we beat it, Mother, and win?
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

Beat it by not driving in a Tesla swasticar
Beat it by leaving X so unpopular
Beat it by not shopping at Amazon at all
Beat it with a helping hand for those that stumble
And those that fall

Beat it with taxation and electoral defeat
Beat it with poetry, beat it in the street
Beat it with love for all your fellow men
Beat it by being more organised than them
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
And when her fading came quick
To my children, she said, I leave a brightly coloured stick
[E] To beat it [G#] beat it [A] beat it [B (stop)] ‘til everyone is rich

Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

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