Waiting For All The Facts

Nick says it’s audacious
We think it’s outrageous
Kier says nothing to do with us
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick thinks he’s a giant
We think he’s a tyrant
Kier’s remaining silent
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick thinks that it’s great
We’re both scared and irate
Kier says just wait
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick says it’s a flex
And it’s Colombia next
Kier says it’s complex
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick says nothing ‘bout oil
That makes our blood boil
The question would make Sir Kier recoil
He’s waiting for all the facts

Venezuela: Starmer Speaks Out (Oh No He Doesn’t)

Sir Kier sheds no tear for Maduro
For international law is his call
On kidnap, oil and violence
From Sir Kier simply silence
In a statement as weak as it is small

Sir Kier sheds no tear for Venezuela
Of the people, he said nothing at all

Breaking Britain

They’re hanging flags on the lampposts of Breaking Britain
They’re painting the roundabouts red
The concerned mums of Epping are lighting fires
While Bobby’s on the beach winding up their suppliers
They’re kicking the refugees out of The Bell
Next thing they’ll wanna kick you out as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

A oner gets you Farage on a football shirt
But the flag is flying upside down
Nicky did a Trump dance and a fascist salute
He’s off to Liverpool in a too small suit
Anti-immigrant poison is what they sell
Next thing they’ll wanna poison you as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

They’re breaking Britain with division
They’re breaking Britain with derision
They’re breaking Britain with hate for a scapegoat mate
And making a pretty penny while they’re at it too
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

While Both Sides Sheila argues both sides
Not all nazis are nazis she opines
Not sure I’d want asylum seekers down my street
She’s down with the othering of not like me
And the high street is some lawless kind of hell
Next thing the law will come for you as well
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

Kier looking on without a clue, he’s breaking Britain
Rachel in the wings without a penny for you, she’s breaking Britain
Kemi trying to be the baddest of the bad, she’s breaking Britain
Nigel the worst MP Clacton ever had, he’s breaking Britain
He’s breaking Britain

They’re breaking Britain with division
They’re breaking Britain with derision
They’re breaking Britain with hate for a scapegoat mate
And making a pretty penny while they’re at it too
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain
They’re breaking Britain

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

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

The Man Who Built The Burning House

The man who built the burning house
rubs his hands, his fingers laced
The order for a million more
is ready to be placed

He flexes fists and wrists
like he’s choking the supply
He knows the tricks that keep demand
and profit-making high

New homes for all, the promises
of ministers and kings
The man who built the burning house
is waiting in the wings

Sir Kier’s New Clothes

A cloth so beautiful, he said
I’ll weave for you, Sir Kier
That to the simple or unfit
Invisible ‘t will appear

These splendid clothes, I just must have
What do they cost, pray tell
To you it’s free, the Baron said
‘N’ I’ll dress your wife as well

He set up looms and set to work
Weaving night and day
And yet the golden thread they brought
He simply put away

Kier sent a spad to view the cloth
It’s gorgeous, he announced
Seeing nothing, but for fear
That he might be denounced

His Chief of Staff gave equal praise
Lest she be seen unfit
The most magnificent I’ve seen
Was all she dared submit

And so, Sir Kier came to view
This cloth beyond compare
The best design I ever wove
The Baron did declare

It surely is, Sir Kier agreed
Though there was nowt to see
Neither simple nor unfit
Could he be seen to be

So pleased he seemed that no one dared
To baulk or disagree
And the Baron was rewarded
With a Westminster Palace key

He sewed all night by candlelight
His scissors keen and steady
Cut unseen cloth, and as dawn broke
He cried, Kier’s suit is ready

Your trousers, he presented
Your jacket and your tie
So light, like wearing nothing
Oh, how splendid, the reply

Upon the people, he processed
How beautiful, they cooed
And not a soul dared suggest
Sir Kier was in the nude

Until a child’s voice, young Owen
The crowd all heard his call
Sir Kier, I declare is wearing
Not a thing at all

Listen to the child, they said
Sir Kier’s glamour gone
But there was nothing for it
So, he, naked, just marched on

PMQ’s in His Underpants

Kier’s half-naked and freezing
There is no budget for clothes
PMQ’s in his underpants
And even his wife bought those

Nobody thought to tell him
There’s no shirts on the public purse
You need a rich donor for clothing
Or it’s just boxers or worse

Kier’s half-naked and freezing
Because of the bribe he ignored
PMQ’s in his underpants
It’s all the clothes we can afford