Nasty Norris from the Home Office
Metal detector in hand
Takes jewellery from refugees
At the border to this green and pleasant land
With their human rights in his sights
He claims they cost a billion pounds
His twenty year plan to send them back
Just as grim as it sounds
Dark forces stirring up anger
Prompt his boss’s idea
But with Nasty Norris at The Home Office
The dark forces are here
Lee’s house ain’t as nice
As his house, ain’t as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets
And Lee’s clothes ain’t as nice
As his clothes, ‘cos Lee knows
All the things an asylum seeker gets
From
GB News, LBC
Folks with no time for refugees
On the basis that they’re rich racists
And that’s what they want Lee to see
Lee’s money ain’t as much
As their money, ain’t as much
As what an asylum seeker gets
And Lee’s phone ain’t as nice
As his phone, ‘cos he’s been shown
What an asylum seeker gets
By
GB News, Talk TV
Folks like Nick Ferrari
On the basis that they’re rich racists
And that’s what they want Lee to see
Shall we show him
Shall we show him
Shall we show him
That Lee’s house is twice as nice
As his house, twice as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets
And Lee’s clothes are twice as nice
As his clothes, twice as nice
As what an asylum seeker gets
(Nothing, they buy their own)
And Lee’s money is so much more
Than his money, so much more
Than what an asylum seeker gets
(Forty-nine pounds a week)
And Lee’s phone is so much better
Than his phone, so much better
Than what an asylum seeker gets
‘Cos they’re from charities so they can stay in touch
With the process, services and such
But that ain’t what they want Lee to see
They want him to blame the refugee
And Lee’s house ain’t as nice
As his house, ain’t as nice
As what Nigel Farage gets
Freezing cold in a Canvey caravan
Or powerless in a burned-out barrack room
This is the life of a refugee
In a billionaire slum landlord boom
Four-star hotel, with rats as well
A holiday park caravan
The King of asylum counts his money
And cares not for his fellow man
The Kings of Essex are the kings of asylum
Housing rats, cockroaches and refugees
The Kings of Essex are asylum pirates
Avoiding tax on the East Anglian high seas
The king of fat cat consultancy
Springs clear of his liability
Takes your money and exploits the weak
As handed out by the Ministry
The Kings of Essex are the kings of asylum
Housing rats, cockroaches and refugees
The Kings of Essex are asylum pirates
Avoiding tax on the East Anglian high seas
Smash the gangs, smash their yachts
The Rachman refugee-exploiting band
Smash the gangs, take their money
And house the refugees on their land
The Kings of Essex are the kings of asylum
Housing rats, cockroaches and refugees
The Kings of Essex are asylum pirates
Avoiding tax on the East Anglian high seas
Smash the gangs, smash their yachts
The Rachman refugee-exploiting band
Smash the gangs, take their money
And house the refugees on their land
They came with orders
And transporters
Souls with borders
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go
Tentative roots in a new community
Ripped out fast with the impunity
Of cruelty to the refugee
Being Party policy
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go
From one uncaring mean hotel
To the next uncaring mean hotel
No pleased as man with man to dwell
No fond farewell
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go
What you can carry’s what you can bring
What’s left behind you know they’ll sling
Don’t you dare say a fucking thing
Who are you we’re moving you
Off you go
And all that’s left is the refugees’ luggage
That the hotel will throw in the bin
This is England this is right now
These are the fascists that you voted in
Full story here
Refugees on barges
Jeering little Farages
When Britannia ruled the waves
James Bibby was transporting slaves
Meanwhile humanitarians
Are Nick Ferrari’s enemy
Refugees on prison ships
Suella’s bag of cruel tricks
Singing Rule Britannia
Let’s make you all unhappier
Somewhere there’s a statue
That needs chucking in the sea
Billionaires in space rockets
Billionaires in submarines
Billionaires gone missing
Send help by whatever means
Billionaires in space rockets
Billionaires in submarines
Meanwhile off the coast of Greece
Are eighty drowning refugees
But billionaires in space rockets
And billionaires in submarines
Throw the switch from “Don’t” to “Care”
On radios and TV screens
“It’s worse now than it’s ever been“.
In fact the numbers are at around half of the 2002 peak.
“They’re mostly economic migrants with no right to be here“.
In fact the percentage of successful claims for asylum is rising.
“It’s a crisis not of our making“.
It’s the Home Office failing to process applications that appears to be the problem.
“They all want to come here and not to any other safe country“.
Not even close.
“Kent has been hit particularly hard“.
Doesn’t look like it.
“We’re a soft touch”.
£41 a week…
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
They found him on the beach at Dover
But his ordeal was far from over
Checking for food in the bins
Fido was looking quite thin
So they scooped him up and took him to the pound
Left him in the company of other lost hounds
Saying it was definitely for the best
That Fido’s case should be quickly processed
How did he get here? Was it a legal route?
Where is his collar and lead?
Why is it never bitches or puppies?
Did he just throw his tag in the sea?
Is it just ‘cause the bins are better in Dover?
Did he just want a more benevolent owner?
Did he think we’d just hand him a nice marrow bone
And a bed in a new, warm, comfy home?
Fido barked his answers with canine candour
But the decision had been made, he was off to Rwanda
When the story broke, there was outrage
The Daily Mail devoted the whole front page
This is a nation of animal lovers
And we demand that no dog ever suffers
Transportation to a foreign land
On this the paper will make its stand
The Sun, The Express and even The Times
Said that dog deportations were animal crimes
The Prime Minister was forced to agree
Shed a crocodile tear on breakfast TV
Said on dog trafficking we must draw a line
And the Home Secretary was forced to resign
So woe betide the politician who ever forgets
That we measure our compassion by the way we treat our pets
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
Steve White & The Protest Family 