Tag: writing
Bad Flags
Ryan’s up a lamppost waiting for his mate
He wants a cherry picker but the cherry picker’s late
He’s got a mouthful of zip ties
And a heartful of hate
He’s raising the colours of a bad flag
Tommy knows the flag is just another tool
To fleece the crowd that still thinks that cocaine is cool
He’s calling it unite
When all they want to do is fight
He’s marching to the colours of a bad flag
Bad flags, tatty rags
Like motorway trees flying Tesco bags
They’re flown with bad intentions
They’re bad flags
Paul carries a cross like some kind of boss
When the RM see his logo, they’re gonna be pissed off
He’s yesterday’s thug
But he won’t give up
He’s got nothing except a bad flag
Luke is in a suit, moustache and tie to boot
Like an Oxfam Mosley throwing up a salute
His performative charge
Looks quite the hoot
He’s an agitator with a bad flag
Bad flags, tatty rags
Like motorway trees flying Tesco bags
They’re flown with bad intentions
They’re bad flags
Pure cold rage said Nigel
And pure cold rage he got
Nigel’s leading the riot
And pretending that he’s not
Pure cold rage said Nigel
Everyone knew what he meant
Nigel’s leading the riot
Again
Bad flags, tatty rags
Like motorway trees flying Tesco bags
They’re flown with bad intentions
They’re bad flags
Coming Apart At The Seams
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
Raise The Colours
Blue Origin Blues
Jeff’s cock exploded
They said, oh dear
There’s supposed to be
A space rocket here
And now there’s just
A hole in the ground
A very rough day
All round, said Jeff
Who still had billions
Of dollars left
The Food Of Love
Kingmakerfield (A Song For Jason)
Cotton mills, collieries
Weaving sheds and potteries
Hinges, locks, files and nails
Labour leadership emails
From Makerfield
Made in Makerfield
Kingmakerfield
Now there’s too much derelict land
Spoil tips, we understand
Where the pits used to be
In the a la mode constituency
Of Makerfield
Makerfield
Kingmakerfield
Wes didn’t fire the starting gun
For the race to be number one
He’s waiting for the northwest son
From Makerfield
Kingmakerfield
The diocese of Liverpool
Granada TV’s gritty cool
Joe Gormley OBE
Who will be the next MP
Of Makerfield
Makerfield
Kingmakerfield
Wes didn’t fire the starting gun
For the race to be number one
He’s waiting for the northwest son
From Makerfield
Kingmakerfield
Jason and Joanna, and The Leadership Challenge
JASON is sat at the kitchen table, staring at his laptop. JOANNA is emptying the dishwasher, putting cutlery and crockery away in various drawers and cupboards. LBC plays in the background.
JASON: They say that there’s going to be a coup.
JOANNA: A coup? Right. Do you think that we should take some biscuits?
JASON: Yeah. They reckon that Streeting will resign today.
JOANNA: Oh (pauses) I’m sure that there will be tea, but Mum always likes a biscuit with her tea.
JASON: Lots of people are saying Burnham.
JOANNA: Those nine hours in A&E can’t have been easy for her, particularly not at her age. I hope that she was able to get a cup of tea, at least.
JASON: No (pauses) But he’s not even an MP. Someone would have to stand down.
JOANNA: I suppose I should check what time we can visit. Will you come?
(The news bulletin on the radio is discussing Angela Rayner’s tax affairs)
JASON: Yes, no (pauses) maybe. Apparently, Rayner’s cleared to stand.
JOANNA: I suppose I could get the bus. That might be better. Did you hear about Karen’s letter?
JASON: What letter? Rayner! Honestly.
JOANNA: She’s been told that her job is at risk. She might be made redundant.
JASON: No, she’s been cleared by the taxman (pauses) Oh, Karen. Right, yeah.
JOANNA: She really doesn’t know what to do with herself. She won’t be able to afford the rent on that place without a job.
JASON: Hmm. Miliband! Of course! That’s why he’s saying that he’s not interested.
JOANNA puts the last cup away and closes the dishwasher
JOANNA: Well, if I’m going to get the bus, I’d better get going.
JASON looks up at her, briefly, then returns his gaze to the laptop.
JASON: Okay.
JOANNA (to herself): Nothing’s going to change, is it?
JASON: Hmm? No. Probably not.
JOANNA leaves.
Voting Fascist
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
Tell me what’s the difference between you and me
And why you would vote for a fascist
Your avenues are like our wide streets
Our estates are made from the same concrete
Like the pubs and shops where people meet
So why would you vote for a fascist
I come from the city of a hundred tongues
I come from the city to which everyone comes
No need to see the world when the world comes here
While you live in fear
Don’t live in fear
‘Cos it’s not perfect
Nothing ever is
But if we work it
Takes less than it gives
If you come from the place where everybody lives
You’d never vote for a fascist
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
I’ll tell you what’s a bother, what’s a-bothering me
Tell me what’s the difference between you and me
And why you would vote for a fascist
Our children’s problems are the same as yours
The same woes behind the same front doors
The same kids, the same rich men’s wars
So why would you vote for a fascist
I come from the city that forgets where you are from
I come from the city where you just belong
The city that says everything is here
While you live in fear
Don’t live in fear
‘Cos it’s not perfect
Nothing ever is
But if we work it
Takes less than it gives
If you come from the place where everybody lives
You’d never vote for a fascist
And we hear it
When the fascist lies
We see his greed
It’s no surprise
A rich man set to better rich men’s lives
So, I’d never vote for a fascist
Never vote for a fascist
Havering
If you climb a lamppost in Romford
You can see Clacton-on-Sea
The roundabouts all lead to Essex
Where the punters say they’d rather be
Paying their taxes in crypto
Or rolls of used twenty-pound notes
A borough landlocked celebrating
How now they can stop the boats
If you climb a lamppost in Romford
You can see Clacton-on-Sea
Where give ‘em a chance to fuck it all up
Is the only hope there seems to be
Steve White & The Protest Family 