Dead End Friends

A story as old as Stan.

RIP Molly.

Molly shouted into the wind
But the wind never replied
Molly shouted louder but the wind never hears
The wind just blows on by
All Molly needed was someone to listen….

So, Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
Dead-end friends are right on trend
Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
But dead-end friends can’t heal…
‘Cause dead-end friends aren’t real

Molly ran down a one-way street
With something terrible to say
Molly ran harder but nothing came back
Nothing ever comes the other way
All Molly needed was someone to listen

So, Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
Dead-end friends are right on trend
Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
But dead-end friends can’t heal…
‘Cause dead-end friends aren’t real

The wind, it never listens
The street, it never changes
The wind, it never listens
And Molly
Was ready
To be among the stars…

Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
Dead-end friends are right on trend
Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
But dead-end friends can’t heal…
‘Cause dead-end friends aren’t real

Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
Dead-end friends are right on trend
Molly sent a message to her dead-end friends
But dead-end friends can’t heal…….
‘Cause dead-end friends aren’t real

Tesco

Do they want the pub boarded up?
Do they want the chip shop shut?
Who’ll bake the bread when the baker’s bust?
In the high street they let turn to dust

You’re gonna have to go to Tesco
Get a couple of cans to go
They want you to go to Tesco
Tesco’s where they want you to go

When you’re keeping warm in the library
Or the café with a two-hour cup of coffee
‘Til you need to leave this table, sorry
That’s not where they want you to be

They want you to go to Tesco
Tesco’ll have their gas bill dough
They want you to go to Tesco
Tesco’s where they want you to go

A nation of shopkeepers shutting up shop
When the gas price rises just won’t stop
And the Government’s asleep at the wheel
Tell me, how does it feel

When all that’s left is to go to Tesco
Like it used to be but somehow less so
They want you to go to Tesco
Tesco’s where they want you to go

John Henry

Like Boris Johnson gaslighting you about your gas bill, the myth of hard work is that if capitalism isn’t working for you it’s because you’re not working hard enough, and nothing to do with the whole crooked system being engineered to make very rich people even richer at your expense. Prime Minister in Waiting and co-author of Britannia Unchained, Liz Truss, is precisely one of those people who benefit from you believing that all you need to succeed is a little hard work and this country’s failing infrastructure is your fault for not grafting quite hard enough; her role after all is to protect the private sector and big business at all costs and not to look after you, no matter what she says. Don’t let her get away with it.

John Henry had his hammer, Stakhanov a jackhammer too
But Liz says that the British worker is an idler through and through
Now, hard work killed John Henry, and hard work will kill you too
So, when Liz says you need more hard graft, you know what you have to do

Tell her we’ll do a good day’s work, but for a good day’s pay
And when the union comes calling, we’ll take our work away
‘Cause we won’t break our backs for a boss who won’t pay tax
And we’ll do our stint together and our way, oh yeah
We’ll do our stint together and our way

John Henry, he built the railroad, Stakhanov, he mined for coal
But Liz says that the British worker prefers life on the dole
Now, hard work killed John Henry, and hard work will kill you too
So, when Liz says the nation lacks skill and application, you know what you have to do

Tell her we’ll do a good day’s work, but for a good day’s pay
And when the union comes calling, we’ll take our work away
‘Cause we won’t break our backs for a boss who won’t pay tax
And we’ll do our stint together and our way, oh yeah
We’ll do our stint together and our way

John Henry was buried in the morning, Alexei raised a glass
But Liz says that the British worker needs a kick up the arse
Now, hard work killed John Henry, and hard work will kill you too
So, when Liz comes promising some levelling up, you know what you have to do

Tell her we’ll do a good day’s work, but for a good day’s pay
And when the union comes calling, we’ll take our work away
‘Cause we won’t break our backs for a boss who won’t pay tax
And we’ll do our stint together and our way, oh yeah
We’ll do our stint together and our way, oh yeah
We’ll do our stint together and our way

When the Sun Goes Down

She had to stop watching the news when she became the news
Another poverty safari into a lifestyle she didn’t choose
She hardly has the lights on at this time of year
And like the feeling going around
She’s feeling like she’s gonna drown
And she don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down

Blackouts to hide from bailiffs rather than warplanes
But it’s war just the same, in all but name, with a wartime price to be paid
And something to eat will have to wait until tomorrow now
‘Cause like the feeling going around
She’s feeling like she’s gonna drown
And she don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
She don’t know what she’s gonna do when the sun goes down

Fat Cats

Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re talking ‘bout the price of gas
They say handouts are kinda crass
The sinking ship’s still fulla rats
Who like to think they’re friends with cats

(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re talking ‘bout the price of you
The pay rise that you’re due
They’re telling you to join the queue
For the credit card they overdrew

(And)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

If in the morning they were all gone
Everyone would see the con
If the billionaires had upped and run
All the work would still get done

(While)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats
Get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

They’re literally printing money (not literally)
Their uplands are always sunny
While the country descends into poverty
They’re all on fuckin’ holiday

(‘Cause)
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
The bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter
Fat cats get fatter and you don’t matter
To the bosses the bankers and the billionaires
Fat cats get fatter

Waitrose Woman and Meal Deal Man

Waitrose Woman loves Meal Deal Man
But she’s doesn’t understand
How he’s just getting by

Waitrose Woman loves Meal Deal Man
But she doesn’t understand
And she’s forgetting why

Waitrose Woman works in the city
Loves low taxes and the NHS
Waitrose Woman lives in Surrey
Has two kids and a dog called Bess
Waitrose woman likes Radio 4
She doesn’t really feel the culture war
She feels very sorry for the kids of the poor
She buys their dusters at the door
She knows that she’s okay
She knows that she’s okay

Meal Deal Man lives in the city
He’s already eaten his one-a-day
Meal Deal Man works for a living
But he’s going to the food bank today
Meal Deal Man gets his benefits paid
He lies in the bed they say he made
His shirt is clean but his collar is frayed
He used to vote but just feels betrayed
He knows he’s not okay
He knows he’s not okay

Meal Deal Man drinks a Wetherspoons coffee
It’s not very nice but the pub is warm
Meal Deal Man knows there’s heat in the bookies
And they’ll leave him alone to study the form
Meal Deal Man’s card gets declined
Meal Deal Man knows life’s unkind
Meal Deal Man’s been left behind
Even though he’s always tried
He knows he’s not okay
He knows he’s not okay

Waitrose Woman likes a glass of wine
A ripe avocado and wholemeal bread
Waitrose Woman loves her warm kitchen
And cool sheets when she slips into bed
Waitrose Woman knows we’re all the same
She feels very sorry for the sick and the lame
She thinks that poverty is a shame
But hard work is the name of the game
She knows that she’s okay
She knows that she’s okay

Waitrose Woman loves Meal Deal Man
But she’s doesn’t understand
How he’s just getting by

Waitrose Woman loves Meal Deal Man
But she doesn’t understand
And she’s forgetting why
She’s forgetting why
She’s forgetting why
She’s forgetting why

Trickle-Down Town

Trickle-down misery
Trickle-down poverty
Trickle down lies
And trickle-down dishonesty
Trickle-down rules
From a trickle-down clown
Only trickle down
In Trickle-Down Town

Trickle-down parties
With trickle-down cakes
Trickle-down suitcased
Trickle-down fakes
Trickle-down fines
Come trickling down
From fifties to thousands
In Trickle-Down Town

The trickle-down cough’s
Still trickle-down persistent
The trickle-down prof.’s
Still pretty non-existent
Now poxy monkey pox
Is trickling down
‘Cause the A/C’s always off
In Trickle-Down Town

The trickle-down penny
Still hasn’t dropped
The trickle-down rises
Still haven’t stopped
Rishi’s five pence
Is nowhere to be found
On any forecourt
In Trickle-Down Town

Trickle-down prices
Are trickle-down rising
A trickle-down crisis
Is hardly surprising
When trickle-down profits
Are still never found
In the trickle-down pockets
Of Trickle-Down Town

The trickle-down prince
Reads a trickle-down speech
To a trickle-down house
With trickle-down reach
Sat on a trickle-down throne
Next to a trickle-down crown
Now they boo the national anthem
In Trickle-Down Town

Lee Anderson vs. Jack Monroe

Lee was a miner
Not a striking miner, mind ya
‘Cause he was still a minor
In ‘84

Then he was on the CAB
And homeless hospitality
And work for Gloria MP
(He was) Labour before

But now contrary Lee
Is Ashfield’s new Tory MP
Class of 2019
And hard to ignore

‘Cause Lee likes to boo the knee
And speak antisemitically
Likes a right-wing conspiracy
And hates the poor

Now Jack’s gonna sue the arse off him
He played a very expensive game of chicken
We know Jack will win

Lee was a miner
Not a striking miner, mind ya
‘Cause he was still a minor
In ‘84

He prefers the company
Of Martin Daubney’s party
And Laurence Fox’s bigotry
And racist rapport

He said that poor people make shit cooks
And Jack just tries to sell ‘em books
So Jack’s lawyers will have a look
And settle the score

Now Jack’s gonna sue the arse off him
He played a very expensive game of chicken
We know Jack will win

Lee was a miner
Not a striking miner, mind ya
Now he’s just a whiner
And a right-wing troll

Bin Bags


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