It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy
Epstein o’clock for Lord Pete
Epstein o’clock, just like Andy
Soon to live on Used-To-Have-A-Title Street
It’s Epstein o’clock for Petey
Even though he says he didn’t partake
It ain’t much of an entreaty
When you’re selling the secrets of the state
It’s Epstein o’clock for Mandy
Hey, Prince of Darkness, it’s Epstein o’clock
Soon for a bunch of very rich bastards
It’ll be Epstein o’clock
Tick, tock
It goes back a thousand years
Of stamps and coins and souvenirs
A multitude of peers
Holidays as careers
It goes back to the point of the sword
It goes back to the point of it all
Seizing what was common before
Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business
Andy take the fall
You’ll topple us all
Royals without peasants
Ain’t royals at all
Your heritage won’t be linear
But your lifestyle won’t be chillier
We know paedophilia
Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business
Owning everything
Being the king
Wearing crowns and all that bling
Listening to that song that they all sing
Stuffing themselves like pigs
Doing god forbids
To other people’s kids
Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
‘Cause it’s the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business
No longer being a prince ain’t justice
The When-Willy-Is-King hints ain’t justice
Not being the Duke of York ain’t justice
All the media talk ain’t justice
(Not being the Earl of Inverness
Does anyone care less?)
Exile to Sandringham ain’t justice
Surnamed Mountbatten ain’t justice
Not Baron Killyleagh ain’t justice
How long the delay on justice?
They’re just protecting the brand
Letting you think he’s damned
But beyond the pale
Still ain’t in jail
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
Earl of Inverness
Erstwhile passenger aboard the Lolita Express
Refuses to confess
Shelled out twelve million nonetheless
Of public money, at a guess
Is still the Duke of York, unless
Parliament decides otherwise
Which would come as some surprise
Given its current tenants
So, he maintains the dukedom in his clutch
Just offers to not be known as such
Somehow by way of penance
Andrew, so-called prince
Publicly funded paedophile of this parish
His sweatless bluff now failed
His lies to Emily unveiled
Thought eighth in line would just prevail
But to no avail
Prepares for life beyond the pale
Should be in jail
The Queen is dead, long live the King
With barely pause for breath
Or chance for anyone to ask
If this is for the best
The new PM, not camera-shy
Jumps aboard the royal ride
She wants those headline stories
King Charles the Third, King of the Tories
And old in years but new in post
Big Ears agreed to be her host
As they set out to tour the land
Of crowds policed with heavy hand
Where protest is all but banned
(Such a heinous caper
To hold aloft a piece of paper
Or call out your response
To the presence of a sweaty nonce)
Meanwhile, back in Parliament
The doors stay firmly closed
So no one hears the argument
Against a king imposed
Or his parade’s flamboyance
In a time of crisis
Or his tax avoidance
And the powers that allow this
(Three hundred million quid
God forbid
Remain in royal coffers
Received with little thanks, cap doffers)
No effective government
Since Spaffer’s slow departure
The new Tory incumbent
Threatens even harder
And mourning not withstanding
Has plans to keep rich standing
While the poor just quietly fall
It’s what she would’ve wanted, after all
Did you ever while away a childhood hour
Imagining your very own superpower?
But never able to scratch that itch
‘Cos superpower’s reserved for the super-rich
Batman’s a toff, the stuff he’s got
Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot
But if the city upped the ante
And binned the vigilante
They could fund the GCPD
Properly
(Commissioner Gordon would be proud)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Ironman’s a toff, the stuff he’s got
Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot
‘Cos Stark Industries’
A monopoly
With sights on the whole defence
Industry
(He’s got a military industrial complex)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Andrew’s a toff, the stuff he’s got
Livin’ off tax paid by you lot
Touches who he wants
With impunity
‘Cos his superpower’s unaccountability
(On account of his mum being Queen)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Our superpower’s sharing, our superpower’s caring
Our superpower’s looking out for one another
Our superpower’s sharing, our superpower’s caring
Our superpower’s looking out for one another
Jacob’s a toff, the stuff he’s got
Bet he don’t pay tax on half that lot
His hedge fund’s laughin’
While other folk are starvin’
His superpower’s alarming, while his wealth he’s guarding
(He just doesn’t see poor people)
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Hand over the keys to the Batmobile
Built by our labour of hand and brain
And hand over the iron suit too
We don’t want to see your superhero arses round here again
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
Superheroes, supervillains, they’re just products of the system
He still eats meat five days a week
And runs his car on cheese and wine,
Owns two hundred square miles of land
And several droves of rarest swine.
He’s waited on around the clock
On hand and foot and royal cock,
From royal shoe to royal sock
And royal boxer to royal jock.
He married the nation’s sweetheart
Then walked his mate’s wife up the aisle,
He was mates with Jimmy Savile
And his brother is a paedophile.
He still eats meat five days a week
And runs his car on cheese and wine,
Owns homes that thousands of others live in
And lets the rents just climb and climb.
He’s waited on around the clock
On hand and foot and royal cock,
By valets who express no shock
At some duties that most might knock.
His brother is a paedophile
His uncle even worse, it’s said.
He runs his car on cheese and wine;
Like all the rest, off with his head.
The Queen’s widely previewed but rarely watched Christmas message will be delivered in a royal blue 1 cashmere dress by Angela Kelly adorned with the sapphire and diamond brooch given to Queen Victoria by Prince Albert in 1840. In it she’ll encourage the country to put past differences behind us by referencing D-Day and describe the unveiling of her favourite son as a rapist and a liar as “quite bumpy” 2. Essential viewing for fans of carefully guarded language and calls for unity from super-rich folk who will do little else to achieve it.
Boris Johnson 3 meanwhile, clearly didn’t get the memo about national unity and focuses his Christmas message on Christians alone, referencing them three times in a 350-word statement while addressing a country whose own census data recognises several other major religions, Christianity’s declining popularity, and a rise in the number of people declaring themselves to be of no religion.4
On the subject of the census, Herod the Great’s Christmas message is that it, along with the Massacre of the Innocents, is just fake news.
We have yet to hear from Donald Trump, the festive season has gifted us impeachment after all, but his Christmas message will no doubt follow a similar pattern:
Jeremy Corbyn, of course, bucks the trend by using his Christmas message to point out that Baby Jesus’ instruction to love thy neighbour isn’t reflected in the doubling of rough sleeping in the UK over the last six years of austere Tory rule.6
And that’s our message to you too this Christmas. It’s a tough old world out there that looks set to get tougher, so look after yourselves and each other and, however you identify, however you celebrate, if you’re a victim of the system, their system, we’re on your side, making music to bring hope, healing, encouragement, entertainment and outrage.
Hold your loved ones close this Christmas if you can, and think about those that can’t. Let’s all come out fighting in the New Year.
Merry Christmas!
Steve
1. Obviously.
2. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-50895486. And listen out for Air Miles Andy, at gigs and hopefully on record soon.
5. Always the police, followed by nurses. Rarely do the other services get a special mention.
6. https://jeremycorbyn.org.uk/articles/jeremy-corbyn-my-christmas-message/index.html
Steve White & The Protest Family 