The New Pharaohs of the West

He wears his shoes way too big
And tells the most tremendous lies
He’s got magic healing ears
And blind eyes to genocide

He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West
He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West

The illegal alien with a billion bucks
High on ket., tweets a curse
Dirty Donny was in bed with Jeff
In the file and so much worse

He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West
He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West

Two hundred and eighty cubits high
And build it just as wide
Build it on the bones of Palestinians
Build it in my new Gaza seaside

Donny’s living the American dream
He’s lived it since he was eighteen
And his father gave him his first million dollars

He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West
He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West

Two hundred and eighty cubits high
And build it just as wide
Build it on the bones of Palestinians
Build it in my new Gaza seaside

He was born in an emerald mine
In the South African sunshine
He’s cool with apartheid
Cool with conspiracy

He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West
He’s one of the new pharaohs of the West

Two hundred and eighty cubits high
And build it just as wide
Build it on the bones of Palestinians
Build it in my new Gaza seaside
Build it on the bones of Palestinians
Build it in my new Gaza seaside

The new pharaohs of the West
The new pharaohs of the West
The new pharaohs of the West
The new pharaohs of the West

Piñata Economics

Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
So when her children had children and nothing had changed
She said, it’s time to play a new game

Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

The piñata had grown to a terrifying size
It stared at the children with malevolent eyes
With all the richest treasures within
How do we beat it, Mother, and win?
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

Beat it by not driving in a Tesla swasticar
Beat it by leaving X so unpopular
Beat it by not shopping at Amazon at all
Beat it with a helping hand for those that stumble
And those that fall

Beat it with taxation and electoral defeat
Beat it with poetry, beat it in the street
Beat it with love for all your fellow men
Beat it by being more organised than them
With piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

Her whole life, her hopes and fears
But the only thing to ever trickle down was her tears
A better tomorrow, the promise they made
But tomorrows and promises only fade away
And when her fading came quick
To my children, she said, I leave a brightly coloured stick
[E] To beat it [G#] beat it [A] beat it [B (stop)] ‘til everyone is rich

Piñata economics – ‘cause it never trickles down
Piñata economics – in a papier maché crown
Piñata economics – with a brightly coloured stick
Beat it, beat it, beat it, ‘til everyone is rich

The Point

There’s a point to this and the point is this
He’s very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich

It don’t matter that he’s Hindu, Buddhist, Anglican or Jew
Member of the Church of the Latter Day Dude
He could be an atheist, Taoist or a Jainist
An only-goes-at-Christmas, or a Catholic priest
What matters is he’s very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich

It don’t matter he’s South Asian, though a nice change from Caucasian
He might as well be Bajan, Filipino or Malaysian
He might as well have landed in an alien space invasion
What matters is he’s very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich

It don’t matter that his mum ran the local pharmacy
She could have made a living catching fishes in the sea
Or been a minor member of a foreign royalty
Or the woman at a non-league football club that makes the tea
What matters is he’s very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich

It don’t matter how much money Boris Johnson’s got
Or the size of Liz Truss’s 44-day pension pot
He’s the Prime Minister and thankfully they’re not
And like them he’s very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich

It matters that he’s very, very rich
Because he presides over policies which
Scratch the greediest of greediest itch
And at poverty doesn’t so much flinch or twitch
And that’s the pitch that for a decade or more
The biggest growth is the gap between the rich and the poor
Knock, knock, there’s a landlord at your door
As the own-you-own-homing middle class
Reliable elbows to the Tories’ arse
Are soon becoming a thing of the past….

There’s a point to this and the point is this
He’s very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very
Very, very, very, very rich