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Tax, Ass and Europe

by Chas Warlow

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1.
The man in the apron I am the man in the apron I like to hang out in the kitchen Comfortable with a hand whisk and pepper mill As with a forklift or a precision drill I have baked as many loaves as you’ve had cakes It’s me who has to get up in the night when baby wakes And it ain’t peculiar I am proud to wear the apron strings And even when I wear my fairy wings I can be myself I can be a man The man in the apron I have toiled these many years To make our family happy Those nappies soiled, those tiny tears You should not call me sappy It’s true I lose my rag more than a mummy But you should know that I am more Than just a housebound dummy And it ain’t peculiar
2.
Back to the Thirties They say the past is another land And that sentiment I well understand When looking at the troubles of today One simply wants to try to get away So….! Let’s go back to the thirties Everybody’s shirty Nobody gives a damn Children in the street, playing in bare feet Kitchens smelling of cabbage and ham Let’s go back to the thirties Everybody’s dirty Noone even has a shower Smog in the street, coal burned for heat Fascists everywhere in power Get your haircut - short back and sides Put a suit on and straighten your tie Get off the dole you skiver So what your wage ain’t even a fiver Back ramrod straight Get to work and don’t be late Let’s go back to the thirties Everybody’s shirty Your wages have been cut Wearing baggy trousers – yes we need more houses, Another firm just got shut Let’s go back to the thirties Everybody’s dirty Hair cut with a pudding bowl The people down the lane come from Russia, Germany and Spain Plus the occasional Pole Get your haircut - short back and sides Put a suit on and straighten your tie Get off the dole you skiver So what your wage ain’t even a fiver Back ramrod straight Get to work and don’t be late
3.
Diddly Squat 01:43
Diddly squat When it comes to the EU, out or in? Will the wrong decision lead to our ruin? Apart from our nationalistic pride There are equal answers on either side Put it all together and what have you got? Diddly squat Boris and Dave used to be mates But they haven’t got on well of late Boris says Dave didn’t flex his muscles And get what we wanted from Brussels He said that all Dave got Was diddly squat What has Boris ever done for us Apart from making us laugh at his stunts? Our streets are owned by foreign billionaires, He wants to build a garden bridge – who cares? So put it all together and what have you got? Diddly squat It’s not that I have any answers It’s just that I’m sick of supporting tossers These people in their little bubble Seem only good at causing us trouble So put it all together and what have you got? Diddly squat
4.
The chorus goes like this: And now it's time, nous chantons ensemble Wir sind ein Volk, ein Land und ein Europa. Cantamos, cantamos insieme, Tha itan tosso kakos an then itan etsi.
5.
Washington 2001 - The President about to bomb Afghanistan Someone says “Mr President, this attack violates international law Every treaty and convention there is - and probably more” He looks em straight in the eye and screams down the corridor “I don’t care what the lawyers say, we’re going to kick some ass Forget about the future or the past, we’re going to kick some ass So go and sue me, go and sue me, you and your bleeding hearts I’m going to blow that country into a billion parts” Iraq, 2003, we’ve gotta take control Saddam’s gotten too big for his boots, we need his black gold Tony says we need a better excuse, he doesn’t like GW’s tone The President shouts you in or you out and screams down the phone “I don’t care what the lawyers say, we’re going to kick some ass Forget about the future or the past, we’re going to kick some ass So go and sue me, go and sue me You and your bleeding hearts I’m going to blow that country into a billion parts” Now Mr Trump with his fake hair and tan He wants to kick all the Muslims out, send em back to Islamistan When someone says that’s against the law, he looks with his beady eye Points his finger, gets upset and shouts his battle cry: “I don’t care what the lawyers say, we’re going to kick some ass Forget about the future or the past, we’re going to kick some ass So go and sue me, go and sue me You and your bleeding hearts I’m going to blow that country into a billion parts”
6.
Never fall in love overseas It costs one million eight hundred and sixty thousand pence To start your family here To gain residence You can marry a foreigner abroad Nothing could be easier Just pull on the umbilical cord Before they want to claim a visa Never fall in love overseas No matter how good it feels Never give your home address To that good-looking waiter or waitress Never fall in love overseas In a world of misunderstanding You can let yourself go Trust me it’ll be too demanding Don’t play the hero Ok you have fallen You couldn’t help yourself Now you’ve got to earn the minimum Or be left on the shelf You might be waiting for ever As you search for the requisite wage But we have to keep our country Safe in its cage We can’t afford this sentiment We can’t let romance win It’s what old Churchill would have said We can’t let your lover in
7.
Fruit and Veg, baby Chorus: Fruit and veg, baby Fruit and veg is free You pick it off the ground You pick it off a tree It goes down naturally If you’ve got an attitude That depends entirely on food If a cheeseburger and fries Is haute cuisine in your eyes Well we may know our ABC But do we know our Es Get that monosodium triglycosphate Invert sugar Right off my plate Chorus If you woke up this morning Had some hormones on toast Of all the world’s varieties It’s the GM ones you love the most Well you may know your ABC But do you know your CJD If meat is murder we’re psychopaths We can’t all feast on protein Just do the maths Chorus I need a hit that goes straight to my brain Every day I have to seek it out And if I don’t get it again and again It makes me completely freak out Well we follow our nose And bury it in sucrose It’s not all sweetness and light This is going to be the next fight
8.
Google, you have paid your taxes - whoohoo! Google, you have paid your dues Well, it's only been about ten years since the taxman sent you his letter Asking you to pay the amount in full but you thought you knew better You filed that letter in a big in-tray and promptly forgot all about it Then you moved to Luxembourg the very next day so the authorities kind of allowed it Google, you have paid your taxes - whoohoo! Google, you have paid your dues 130 million quid is a hell of a lot of clickbait Just how did you manage to get away with a 3% tax rate It's a triumph, it's fantastic, it's a big leap forward Cry the ministers in a medley So when you do your self-assessment, make sure you spell your name correctly Google, you have paid your taxes - whoohoo! Google, you have paid your dues
9.
Why is it still in our subconscious? Like an unexploded mine that turns up from time to time When faced with anything Teutonic We hark back to the war and crank it up some more There’s a British way of taking the Mick Chorus: Tell Jerry, Fritz and Hun Remind ‘em who won Goose-step and salute It’s all done in fun Sieg Heil and Achtung Ask Freud and Jung Why is it still in our subconscious? In thirty years or more will we still care about the score? Wembley in ’66, Gordon between the sticks Hurst up front like a Spitfire, shooting down the Luftwaffe Some people are on the pitch, they think it’s all over
10.
Raif Badawi’s blog Got an email the other day, from one of those campaigning groups The ones you always want to help, but we only have time for only life A blogger in a prison cell, facing a harsh penalty A thousand lashes of the whip – is this justice or insanity? So I read it anyway, a petition from his wife Together we could save this man’s life Raif Badawi’s blog is gone, it’s been starved of oxygen He sits within his prison cell, ‘cos he couldn’t remain within the guidelines Of moderation. The first fifty cuts must have hurt, but what comes next will be worse He’s fighting for his life, and wondering what it was all worth His wife and family, safe in another country Can only dream of running into his arms Raif Badawi’s blog is gone, it’s been starved of oxygen He sits within his prison cell, ‘cos he couldn’t remain within the guidelines Of moderation. Politics is a dirty game, and there’s noone to blame Our leaders will not speak out even though they know what it’s all about Do we really need their oil? Do they really need our guns? Enough to sacrifice our daughters and our sons? Raif Badawi’s blog is gone, it’s been starved of oxygen He sits within his prison cell, ‘cos he couldn’t remain within the guidelines Of moderation.

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The year 2016: a period of drama, high and low comedy. Tax, Ass & Europe.

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released May 12, 2016

All songs written and performed by Chas Warlow

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Chas Warlow Richmond, UK

Chas Warlow is a British singer/songwriter who writes and performs original comic songs.

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