Your grandad shot at nazis
taxed the rich and built the NHS
You mum fought for equality
and fairness, nonetheless
we sleepwalked into the arms
of bastard billionaires
Now you hang flags from lampposts
and mouth pantomime prayers
Tag: writing
Dogs, Pigs, Three-Year-Old Kids
Dogs, pigs, three-year-old kids
Eating one the law forbids
Convention says the second is
Similarly deterred
While of the tragic third
Consumption is preferred
Which is absurd
When you consider
The pig desires to not be dinner
As much as the kid
Would rather not get et
And don’t forget the dog
Who one simply does not eat
While he snoozes at your feet
Why not let
All three be free
To snooze and play
And not be tea
Peter The Homeless Santa – Live At Steve’s House
A Song For Suno
Where will the musos go
When Suno makes the tunes
Where will the brushes go
When the artist is AI
Who will make the art
When the robot eats the artists
When the robot is a thief
Then the art is just a lie
Where will the authors go
When the program writes the novels
Who will draw cartoons
When the satire is AI
Who will make the art
When the robot eats the artists
When the robot is a thief
Then the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
Who will sing songs by and by
Write the books that make you cry
Paint the most amazing sky
When the art is just a lie
When computers take to stages
In empty concert halls
And galleries are filled
With no feelings at all
How then to be human
When the art is all AI
When the art has no soul
When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
When the art is just a lie
Who will sing songs by and by
Write the books that make you cry
Paint the most amazing sky
When the art is just a lie
Oh Tommy. F**k Off! – Live at Steve’s House
In Eleanor’s vineyard, Tommy’s on his knees, pretending to pray
He holds his bible upside down and wonders what Charlie would say
His god washed Islamophobic endeavour gains new followers every day
But he’s a coked up criminal grifter who’s going away
And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
You can’t write everybody off, some folk are just taken in
The difference between influenced and influencers is written on the tin
But when the fascists are at the door be sure to not let them in
And he’s a coked up criminal grifter who should be in the bin
And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
Now Jesus of Nazareth was many things
But nationalism won’t win you your angel wings
Your patriotic cross is just so much toss
So you can Oh Tommy Tommy off
When they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
Put The Christ Back Into Christmas
Put the Christ back into Christmas
The Islam back into Islamophobia
The bigot back into bigotry
The my back into myopia
Put the St. George back into the cross
Put the hat back into Santa
Put the race back into racism
Put the coke back into Fanta
Put the him back into hymns
Put the nation back into nationalism
Put the Christ back into Christmas
Put the Robinson back into prison
Evidence-Based Punk Rock Is Attila The Stockbroker’s Album Of The Year
You can read it in the paper, here.
The First Of The Fallen
He died for his country
The first of the fallen
From Operation Raise The Colours
The tributes came pouring in
From football hooligans
And casual sisters and brothers
Banned for life from Bristol City
Now he’s banned in Bristol City from life
He leaves behind Michele, his wife
He leaves his ladders to the flag committee
His life was colourful, it’s said
Like the roundabouts he painted red
And the thoughts rushing through his head
With the pavement straight ahead
He died for his country
The first of the fallen
From Operation Raise The Colours
My advice: don’t hang the flags at all
But if you do, get some footed help from others
“This is music made by people who believe art can matter, that songs can change minds, that punk was always about more than three chords and a mohawk.” Evidence-Based Punk Rock Reviewed by Indie Dock Music Blog
There’s a particular breed of British protest music that refuses to die quietly, despite every attempt by algorithms and streaming platforms to suffocate it with playlists and bite-sized consumption. Steve White & The Protest Family’s Evidence-Based Punk Rock belongs to this stubborn lineage, standing defiantly at the crossroads where Billy Bragg’s righteous fury meets the Manic Street Preachers’ conceptual ambition.
What ultimately elevates Evidence-Based Punk Rock above mere agitprop is its refusal to wallow in despair. The press release’s declaration that “things might be grim, but better world is possible” isn’t just marketing copy—it’s the album’s beating heart. In an era where cynicism masquerades as sophistication, there’s something genuinely punk about maintaining hope while clear-eyed about the obstacles.
Read the full review here.
Peter The Homeless Santa
Peter The Homeless Santa
Plotted up outside the Little Tesco
We exchange the usual banter
But there’s not much room for a Ho, Ho, Ho
He’d be better off in a stable
But stable ain’t what he’s got
Peter The Homeless Santa
Is in his usual spot
Peter The Homeless Santa
Has a beard that’s not exactly white as snow
But it’s gone greyer quicker
Than an indoor beard would go
Peter The Homeless Santa
Is making a list, he’s checking it twice
A tenner would be lovely
A sandwich might be nice
He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets
Peter The Homeless Santa
Gets a wave as people come and go
Some might stop for a few words
But he has no use for mistletoe
Peter The Homeless Santa
No stocking, no Christmas tree
Peter The Homeless Santa
Three missing pay checks could be you or me
He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets
Every Christmas, Santa
Had a gift for me in his sack
So Outside Little Tesco
I try to give Santa a little back
He ain’t got a reindeer, he ain’t got a sleigh
He ain’t even got a safe place to stay
It might as well be Christmas every day
‘Cause every day’s the same on the streets
Steve White & The Protest Family 