Sir Kier is Late For the War

Dear Donny, I’m so sorry I was late
I thought we had two weeks to get the message straight
You know that’s what the airbases are there for, mate
When Ronnie bombed the Libyans, we didn’t hesitate

I’ve got Lammy standing ready with a statement to make
He knows there’s a special relationship at stake
And if there’s war to be made, then war we shall make
I could do with some ban-the-burqa action to take

So, let me know Donny, if you’re gonna bomb some more
I wanna be like Margaret and Tony before
Not getting invited would leave me pretty sore
Dear Donny, I’m sorry I was late for the war

The Poppy and the Cross

With fewer his majesties
There’d be fewer dead
Yet he leads the remembrance
The old soldier said
The symbols that you see
Are there to show you who’s the boss
They know that you’ll comply
With the poppy and the cross

The poppy and the cross
King and country and the rest
It’s amazing what you’ll suffer
To be told that you’re the best
His Majesty don’t care
For your sorrow and your loss
So long as you’ll die for
The poppy and the cross

That fella with the wreath, he said
Signs the papers off
To manufacture weapons
For the poppy and the cross
To ship them overseas
For genocide in foreign lands
His jacket wears a poppy
But bloody are his hands

Bloody are his hands
King and country and the rest
It’s amazing what you’ll suffer
To be told that you’re the best
His Majesty don’t care
For your sorrow and your loss
So long as you’ll die for
The poppy and the cross

He holds a shepherd’s crook
And he wears a bishop’s hat
The old soldier said to me
What do you make of that
Here to give the slaughter
Some of his pious gloss
Here to lead the prayers
For the poppy and the cross

The poppy and the cross
God and country and the rest
It’s amazing what you’ll suffer
To be told that you’re the best
His Majesty don’t care
For your sorrow and your loss
So long as you’ll die for
The poppy and the cross

Don’t confuse sacrifice
With being sacrificed
The old soldier spoke
Of the wicked loss of life
King and country, God and crown
Will never count the cost
It’s you and I that die
For the poppy and the cross

The poppy and the cross
King and country and the rest
It’s amazing what you’ll suffer
To be told that you’re the best
His Majesty don’t care
For your sorrow and your loss
So long as you’ll die for
The poppy and the cross

Priti Little Britain (And You Can’t Come In)

I’m visiting Poland to speak about you, but you can’t come in
I’ll light up a building in yellow and blue, but you can’t come in

We’ll tell the world that we’re leading the world, but you can’t come in
And your criticism will go unheard, ‘cause you can’t come in

You can’t come in
No, you can’t come in
This is Priti little Britain
Such a pretty Little Britain
That immigration is forbidden
And you can’t come in

I’ll promise you my solidarity, but you can’t come in
You’d be better off in Poland or Germany, ‘cause you can’t come in

We’re being just as generous as we can, but you can’t come in
We’re expressing our love for our fellow man, but you can’t come in

You can’t come in
No, you can’t come in
This is Priti little Britain
Such a pretty Little Britain
That immigration is forbidden
And you can’t come in

I’ll set up a centre, and then lock the door, ‘cause you can’t come in
There’s a process to follow, just to make sure that you can’t come in

Don’t forget you’re a security threat, so you can’t come in
And we still haven’t housed the Afghans yet, so you can’t come in

You can’t come in
No, you can’t come in
This is Priti little Britain
Such a pretty Little Britain
That immigration is forbidden
And you can’t come in

(Yes, there is a tune. Look out for the next edition of the Protest Family Podcast to hear it.)

Derek and the Meerkats

Derek’s boycotting the meerkats
He’s stopped drinking Smirnoff and Coke
He’d never been one for the ballet anyway
He’s never been quite that woke
He’s boycotting Baltika Lager too
Since they stopped selling it in the ‘Spoons
But watching Chelsea on Sky’s okay
Since they split with their Russian tycoons
His missus has got Chicken Kyiv for tea
And told him not to call it Kiev
She should stay out of Holland and Barrett too
At least that’s what the neighbours said
Apparently, their dish gets Russian telly
On the news they called it RT
Derek says it’s alright to just not watch it
If it came with the other channels free
He’s got a knock-off Ukraine football top
Off a bloke with a market stall
And a flag but he’s not sure he’ll fly it
It’s no cross of St. George, after all
He’s a fan of a plucky Ukrainian, mind
He likes it that they’ll stay and fight
Not like them channel dinghy Syrians
Flooding in day and night
It’s not like there’s room in this country
Some fruit picking, but that’s about it
Derek’s boycotting the meerkats
Derek’s doing his bit

Armchair Generals

Armchair generals
Firing other people’s bullets
With other people’s sons
Express sympathy
With the refugee
Who would be welcome here
If they weren’t such a risk to national insecurity
And Lincolnshire is full, says Leigh
Even if they’re willing to pick fruit

What has Liz’s dressing-up box
Got for us today?
Fighter pilot? Tank commander?
Recruiter for La Légion étrangère?
She’s unlikely to dress to protest
Or to campaign against the war
That’s what the other lot are for
The Minister for Instagram will give up glam
But only for a message of might
She wants you to fight

Don’t let her tell you that it’s simple
While the policy to sanction
Fails to seize a single yacht or mansion
Despite the fighting talk
Trying to be the hawkest hawk
It’s easier to call to arms
Than boycott wealthy friends
As a wise man once said
A bayonet is a weapon
With a worker at both ends

Vlad The Invader

There’s oligarchs in London, tanks in Ukraine
Kremlin-funded Tories with wealthy campaigns
Gangster capital was given free reign
And now we’ve got Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

Nigel and Donald have both led the cheer
Strongman nationalist, macho veneer
Looking for excuses now the tanks are here
For their mate Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

So, move the final from the Gazprom
Cancel the Grand Prix and Eurovision song
Cock a deaf ‘un to Saudi dropping British bombs
A bit like Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

Hit him with a sanction, let’s see who it hurts
Who’s got the gas? Who turns the heat off first?
A punch in the face but who comes off worst?
The worker or Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

We’re doing all we can is the Westminster cry
Having washed all the money and turned a blind eye
Now how many refugees will they deny?
Created by Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

The bravery of protests in Pushkin Square
Compare them to a Kensington billionaire
Who has more in common with the bellicose bear?
Vlad The Invader
Vlad The Invader

War Footing

Spaffer’s on a war footing
Above criticism
Posing for pictures in a fighter plane

Spaffer’s on a war footing
Forget Partygate
It’s war for political advantage
Again

Spaffer’s on a war footing
Appearing Churchillian
When he closes his eyes
To better fantasise

Spaffer’s on a war footing
God help us
It wouldn’t be the first time the bodies piled high

Liz Truss Prepares for War

Listen to me, in my new serious voice,
We’re going to war; we don’t have a choice,
So, here’s a picture of me, with my new serious hair
In a serious tank, while our brave troops prepare.
Pay attention to me and my new serious face,
I’m ready to put Vladimir back in his place
But don’t ask me questions, I’m here to be imperious
And impress upon you that things are very serious,
With my serious voice and my serious hair
Because going to war is a serious affair.
And while I offer the Prime Minister my full support
I’ll be seriously ready when it’s time to cut him short.