Tag: writing

Put Up Shut Up Britain Part Two

I’ve got my radio on, tuned to LBC
And every other jock’s tryin’ to tell me
That culturally, the Muslim man
Is pre-disposed to a grooming gang
A grooming gang, not a paedophile ring
‘Cause a paedophile ring is a white man thing
It’s a racist phone-in, non-stop
And the worst of it is, it’s coming from the top
It’s coming from the top and here’s the thing
The people at the top have got brown skin
It’s a desperate scramble for votes, last ditch

And people get hurt when you talk like this

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

Our coach can’t get into Europe
The school trip kiddies cry
‘Cause every passport needs a stamp
Did you stop to wonder why?
Is it two sides of the same coin, you ask
Well, it’s definitely two cheeks of the same arse
Do you need another clue?

We hate folk who ain’t from round here
And the ones from round here too

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

It’s limited and specific
Like the KLF didn’t say
All bound for Brexit Benefit Land
Get out the fuckin’ way
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Where the rules get ripped up and re-written
For the fool who messed up worst and last
In the interests of the ruling class
And we’re throwing a party we can’t afford
For the bloke on the business end of the sword
While the supplicant kneeling is now at the helm
Of the opposition, a knight of the realm
We’ve got Charlie in charge, Charlie on the throne
Where’s our revolucion?
Charlie in France, well maybe not
What chance have we fuckin’ got?

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

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Swastikas in the Sand

The tide’s been going out for ages
Rishi’s got a bucket and spade
There’s a little bit less to go around these days
So Rishi’s got a new game
He knows he’s not the most popular kid
But Rishi’s got a plan
The tide’s been going out for ages
And he’s drawing swastikas in the sand

Swastikas in the sand
He’s drawing swastikas in the sand
The tide’s been going out for ages
And he’s drawing swastikas in the sand

Jonathan and Lee think that Rishi’s fab
They want to join in the game
Please let us play with you Rishi
This lark should really have a name
I’m going to call it Stop the Boats
Whoever’s on them just gets banned
The tide’s been going out for ages
And they’re drawing swastikas in the sand

Swastikas in the sand
They’re drawing swastikas in the sand
The tide’s been going out for ages
And they’re drawing swastikas in the sand

There’s hundreds and millions and billions
Suella joins the game with glee
I bet I can stop the boats the best
Oh Rishi, won’t you play with me
We can pretend they’re all evil
And we should never let them land
The tide’s been going out for ages
And she’s drawing swastikas in the sand

Swastikas in the sand
She’s drawing swastikas in the sand
The tide’s been going out for ages
And she’s drawing swastikas in the sand

Swastikas in the sand
They’re drawing swastikas in the sand
The tide’s been going out for ages
And they’re drawing swastikas in the sand

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Stop the Boats

Diddy Rishi Dastardly’s petard will soon be hoist
“Yes General”, he says to the off-screen muffled voice
But Zilly’s done a runner, he thinks Rwanda isn’t fair
And Klunk has got a legal plan that hasn’t got a prayer
While Dastardly just wants the Vulture Squadron in the air
‘Cause Yankee Doodle Refugee will lose him Red Wall votes
While Muttley snickers “medal”, he’s crying “Stop the boats!”

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Resignation Honours

What the fuck are resignation honours
Can they be bought with foreign dollars
Or are they just for a certain type of cad
Like the ex-PM’s wife-beating dad
With form for familial awards
Having put his brother in the House of Lords

If we’re to let him have his way
Then their post-nominals all should say
KBTW, BJ
Displayed proudly by their name

Arise, Sir Stanley, Lord of Wrong ‘Un
Knighted by that wanker, Boris Johnson

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Put Up, Shut Up Britain

Get a job, get a second job, get a better job
And pretend that Covid never happened
Budget for your tea, better budget 30p
And pretend that there’s no increase in the gap, and

You’re gonna have to wait four hours for an ambulance
You’re gonna have to live at home with your parents
You’re gonna have companies that don’t do what they oughta
You’re gonna have some of them shitting in the water

Do away with your daily latte
Your Netflix subscription will have to wait another day
Bring your bus pass if you want to have a vote
Don’t turn up here in a small boat

Be prepared to join a queue
For tomatoes, cucumbers too
But a good little Brit knows what to do
Go to work on some turnip stew

Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain
Welcome to Put Up Shut Up Britain

by Categories: Lyrics, SteveTags: , , , 2 Comments

Vote Tomatoes, Get Turnips

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

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Willy’s at the Foodbank

Willy’s at the foodbank
Polishing the brand
Stepping from the Range Rover
With nothing in his hand
Kate is in a pink coat
Willy’s jumper’s green
They’ve brought a photographer
They’re here to be seen

Willy’s at the foodbank
Chatting to the staff
Kate is sorting out the tins
They’re both having a laugh
Like this is all so normal
This whip round for the poor
With his green-jumpered patronage
And the pink coat that she wore

Willy’s at the foodbank
And no one’s going to say
That they never used to need
A foodbank round this way
Kate is in a pink coat
Willy’s jumper’s green
While the folk who use the foodbank
Are neither heard nor seen

‘Cause some of them are nurses
And that would never do
The Prince bestowing loaves of bread
When claps would surely do
They’ve brought a photographer
To keep the image clean
Kate is in a pink coat
And Willy’s jumper’s green

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Harry, Won’t You Fly With Me

Let me tell you ‘bout a boy named Harry
And all the fuss about the girl he married
She weren’t like them, she was a celebrity
No eyes of blue, American too
She would never fit in to their family

But she sang
Harry, Harry won’t you fly with me
It could be so much better
Shooting Taliban together
What a power couple we will be

Let me tell you ’bout a bloke called Charlie
Spent his whole life waiting for his mum’s last party
Crowned at last and everything would be alright
Then son number one
And son number two
Had a set too and broke the dog’s bowl in a fight

While she sang
Harry, Harry won’t you fly with me
It could be so much better
Shooting Taliban together
What a power couple we will be

Let me tell you ’bout a woman called Camilla
Charlie’s regular date for dinner
The Princess of All Our Hearts ain’t for me
I wanna be your tampon
Come on, let’s get it on
I don’t care if I’m indiscreet

And she sang
Harry, Harry won’t you fly with me
It could be so much better
Shooting Taliban together
What a power couple we will be

Let me tell you ’bout a prince called William
The whole of Wales was his dominion
Hier to the throne, all he has to do is stay alive
But he fought with his brother
In the absence of his mother
About their choice of royal wives

And she sang
Harry, Harry won’t you fly with me
It could be so much better
Shooting Taliban together
What a power couple we will be

Let me tell you ’bout the whole damn lot of ‘em
How much better it would be to be shot of ‘em
Off with their heads, and those of all their friends
Gold, gilt and greed
Something we don’t need
And that’s the way the story ends

While she sang
Harry, Harry won’t you fly with me
It could be so much better
Shooting Taliban together
What a power couple we will be

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Virtual Wards

She’s on a virtual ward
In a virtual hospital
She saw a virtual doctor
On a video call

She said your virtual op
Will just have to wait
Theatre virtually
Always runs late

She got a virtual ambulance
All the way down the stairs
No virtual paramedic, though
In virtual care

She’s in a virtual hospital
Under a virtual team
They promised us forty
Just not virtually

She’s on a virtual ward
Receiving virtual care
From a virtual government
That virtually doesn’t

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