Coming Apart At The Seams

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There’s a flag tied to a lamppost outside JK’s pad
And Tommy thinks that gendered toilets are really just for the lads
They both love the bruisers with Turkish teeth
The self-appointed toilet police

It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean
It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean

Meanwhile there’s actual Nazis fighting coppers in southern streets
Wearing suits and moustaches like pound shop Mosley wannabes
The coppers might pray for rain
It’s Nigel’s riots all over again

It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean
It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean

Most people ain’t racist
Most people ain’t anti-trans
But they ain’t the loudest voices
They ain’t the ones with a billion pounds

It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean
It’s as bad as it seems
It’s coming apart at the seams
And if you wanna stitch it together
Gotta stick together
Know what I mean
Together, know what I mean
Together, know what I mean
Together, know what I mean

Transphobia

There’s the seaside postcard transphobe
At their bawdy best
Please don’t take me seriously
It was only said in jest

Then there’s the sporting transphobe
The level playing field type
You can’t give back the muscles
Their explanatory gripe

The old school transphobe’s prone to say
It wasn’t like that in my day
When men were men and men were best
And you can probably guess the rest
And almost none were gay

Like the won’t-think-about-it transphobe
Who just doesn’t understand
It used to be so simple
You’re a woman or you’re a man

And the it’s-just-common-sense transphobe
Because everything’s binary
Two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet
Just common sense you see

And then the internet transphobe
The Rowlings and Linehans
Dead name campaigns are their domain
Denying that your trans

Pick your type, there’s more than two
And each demands to have a say
You might call it a spectrum
Which transphobe will you meet today?

Non-Binary

Everybody’s got
Two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet
That’s why some think that binary is right
Well, it might be alright for George Galloway
But people ain’t as simple as night or day
And we’re all on a spectrum like light
Electro-magnetic radiation
It’s true we’re all members of a rainbow nation
And it ain’t as simple as identification
Because everybody has a right
Not necessarily to be who they want to be
Or I’d be Che Guevara in a racing car
Or at the very least a massive rock ‘n’ roll star
But we all deserve to burn bright
And everybody has a right
To be who they are