1. |
The Man in the Apron
02:20
|
|||
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
02:15
|
|||
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. |
An Anthem for Europe
02:53
|
|||
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. |
Kick Some Ass
04:00
|
|||
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
03:00
|
|||
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. |
G**gle Tax, G**gle
01:56
|
|||
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
05:06
|
|||
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.
|
Chas Warlow Richmond, UK
Chas Warlow is a British singer/songwriter who writes and performs original comic songs.
Streaming and Download help
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp