There’s too much choice these days, says Thérèse
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
We’re not to blame for the rain in Spain
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
Cherish specialism, not pessimism
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
The bill’s too high for your local supply
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
Fruit and veg ration is the latest fashion
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
And it’s nothing to do with leaving the EU
Vote tomatoes, get turnips
A murder of crows
A compendium of stories
A parliament of owls
An incompetence of Tories
A reverence of vicars
A selection of alternatives
A righteousness of clergymen
A corruption of Conservatives
An ambush of tigers
An embarrassment of superlatives
A pride of lions
A disgrace of Conservatives
A cartload of chimpanzees
A happiness of glories
A band of gorillas
A circus of Tories
It’s 2021, and we’re still paying the price
As once again enforcement just becomes advice
We’re used to Tories doing things that really ain’t that nice
But this one, I must admit, came as a surprise
‘Cos they’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea
George Eustice reckons it’s okay, environmentally
So, if you’re heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip
Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
Raw sewage at the seaside isn’t very nice
So, there’s a handy sign up to give you this advice
You should keep your mouth and nose closed and best shut your eyes too
‘Cos your Tory MP voted for you to bathe in poo
They’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea
They’re shitting on the likes of you and the likes of me
So, if your heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip
Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
In the absence of all reason they put it to the vote
To throw shit into the rivers to float amongst the boats
Two hundred and fifty Tories put their hands up for the right
To fill your local waterway up with shite
They’re shitting in the rivers and they’re shitting in the sea
They’re shitting on the likes of you and the likes of me
So, if your heading for your local spot to take a pleasant dip
Remember, like the Tories it’s just full of shit
A company called Efficio won an NHS contract
Worth six billion pounds, they say,
While the fella that owns the company that owns them
Bunged seven hundred grand the Tory Party’s way.
A nice little payday for Mr Kolade.
While Scott Fletcher, care of Lowry Trading
Donated a quarter of a million quid, no less.
His reward, about which we are complaining:
IT cloud contracts for the NHS.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.
There’s Meller Designs supplying PPE,
Although their normal range is home and beauty
Of millions: A hundred and sixty-three, procedure free,
Courtesy of the DHSC.
And in return for government contract offers,
Mr Meller’s donations to Tory Party coffers.
Three hundred and fifty million to Medacs Healthcare.
You’ll find a familiar Tory Party figure there.
Its Michael Ashcroft, former Conservative peer
Who’s donated over six million pounds in his career.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.
Globus (Shetland) Limited
Got ninety-three million for FFP3’s
“Should we double our donation to the Tory Party?”
Well, we reckon that the answer was “Yes, please”.
No surprise that Agustsson, king of PPE
Eats with the Leader’s Group society.
And computers for kids doing lockdown learning,
Do you reckon there’s a tory donor in there earning?
Correct! You were safe to assume
That Computacenter founder Philip Hulme
Supported Nick Herbert, Conservative MP
From 2009 to 2019
While wife Janet donated a hundred grand too
To the campaign to keep the country voting blue.
Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round
Because when you say “Pandemic”, they say “Profit”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
Who’s gonna make the Tory Party stop it?
A teenage state school rugby player
Could marvel at the examples
Among the fee-paying opposition
Bigger and better in every position
And every respect
From wrist to thigh and arm to head
Glossier, brighter, whiter
Quite obviously better bred
Better fed, on better bread
These giants who roamed the land
From families who owned the land
(And freely used the word ‘alas’
When deigning to see their lads
At half term)
Were clearly of a better stock
From full back to loosehead prop and back
Chock full of born-to-lead-ness
That our team somehow lacked
As we left the playing fields of England behind
To turn our noses to the daily grind
They rose to take their rightful place
In the grand offices of state
To bray, debate, deliberate
And make the regulations and the laws
That daily will affect us all
Marcus plays a very different game
Co-opted early to the Order of the British Empire
An uncomfortable title
But recognition all the same
He seeks to shame
Those with the power to make a change
In this time of national crisis
To extend a free school meal a day
Into the Christmas holiday
Though tempered is the hope that he’ll succeed
For the children of the first fifteen
It’s a meal they’ll never need
We’re going to clap you all the way to deportation
We’re going to clap you all the way to your NHS surcharge
We’re going to clap our stance of tough on immigration
‘Cos Priti and the Tories are in charge
We’re going to clap you all the way to the care home
We’re going to clap ourselves for our protective ring
We’re going to clap your opportunity to die alone
‘Cos Matt Hancock didn’t do a thing
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
Never forget
We’re going to clap you all the way to deportation
We’re going to clap the NHS that you helped to build
We’re going to clap our stance of tough on immigration
‘Cos Priti still reckons you’re unskilled
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
Never forget
We’re going to clap you all the way to privatisation
We’re going to clap our plans to test, track and trace
We’re going to clap our clever contract allocation
To Matt and Dominic’s bestest mates
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
This is what happens when Tories clap
(Remember nurses pay?)
Never forget
Tories get tests
While the rest of us guess
The science suggests
That’s it’s for the best
The more that you test
And so, we protest
Our distress
And express
That NHS workers
Should all get the test
I must confess
It leaves me quite vexed
That Tories get tests
While the rest of us guess
We’ve decided not to cull the herd, he said
We’ve decided not to cull the herd
When we led without alacrity
Folk acted unilaterally
So, we’ve decided not to cull the herd
We’ve decided not to shut the pubs, he said
We’ve decided not to shut the pubs
We’ve offered some advice
That they might not find very nice
But we’ve decided not to shut the pubs
We’ve decided not to shut the clubs, he said
We’ve decided not to shut the clubs
We’ll tell you not to go
But for them there’s no compo
‘Cos we’ve decided not to shut the clubs
We’ve decided not to stop the trains, he said
We’ve decided not to stop the trains
We said avoid the rush
And your fellow traveller’s brush
But we’ve decided not to stop the trains
We’ve decided to close the schools, he said
We’ve decided to close the schools
Well, for half the kids he smirked
Whose mums haven’t got to work
We’ve half decided to close the schools
We’ve decided not to cull the herd, he said
We’ve decided not to cull the herd
When we looked at the quotas
They were mainly Tory voters
So, we’ve decided not to cull the herd
“This is about stopping the Tories killing people. We’ll stop them with a raised fist: in the streets, on demonstrations and by organising in our trade unions, our workplaces and our communities. Tonight we’re going to stop them with a helping hand. All tonight’s acts are playing for free, all the money will go to people on the front line of stopping Tories killing people: a food bank, a soup kitchen, and a charity that supports disabled survivors of abuse and hate crime.”
Well, we all needed that after this week: some joy, some solidarity. Never underestimate the healing power of music.
There is perhaps no better band to lift your post-election blues than Commie Faggots, no better R’n’B to dance the night away to than The Beatpack’s, book-ending our favourite ever pub rockers Graham Larkbey & The Escape Committee, the irrepressible Efa Supertramp, our hero Robb Johnson thanking the audience for lifting his spirits and, of course, us, debuting Air Miles Andy and leading a rousing chorus of Bring the Bastards Down.
We emerge this morning bleary-eyed but calmer, with a renewed sense of purpose.
We shall overcome.
The final fundraising figures aren’t in yet, but the legendary What’s Cookin’ whip-round won’t have let us down. If you couldn’t make it but would like to make a contribution, here are the links:
Steve
It’s what Supersonic is all about.
The press report this week that Iain Duncan Smith’s think tank, The Centre For Social Justice, recommends increasing the state pension age to 70 by 2028 and 75 by 2030 because, they say, we’re living longer and we are unaffordable.
In 1948, when the state pension was introduced, a man could expect to live for 12 years in retirement and a woman 19, approximately 16% and 24% of their lives respectively[1]. The current state pension ages improve those percentages to 24% and 26%, the proposals from the Centre for Social Justice worsen them to 18% and 20%, with a man receiving his pension for just 17 years on average and a woman hers for 19 years.
But those are just numbers without considering the real hardship of people that can’t afford a workplace pension or the effects on your health and well being of being forced to work full time into old age. Those who would keep you in the workhouse, such as the Centre’s head, Andy Cook, would have you believe that work is good for you whatever your age, and stealing your state pension is a means to “help older people to remain in work”[2].
Nor do the numbers speak of inequality, the life expectancy of Blackpool man (74.7) compared to Kensington and Chelsea man (83.3), the widening of that divide with time or the socioeconomic back story.
The reality will be to make death in service the norm. This isn’t economic good sense, it’s class warfare.
Duncan Smith? We know a song about him. Hard work? We know a song about that too.
Steve
Steve White & The Protest Family 