Arise, arise subsistence farmer

 They've taken away our way of life

Oh I'm now a subsistence farmer

I'm working for the man and woman in strife

Drawn along the strawberry line

And the fosseway is the battle ground

Against the beast from the east

It's the Brighton crowd on their fairground

Spreading their money and culture of grease

It's a thinning line, it's the battle front line

Is Shepton Mallet

It's the invading Romans versus the working celts

We're being pushed out and robbed of our wealth

They're trying to get their hands on life itself

Don't let them, don't let them

There's no point in being up in these hills

There's no land here that pigs haven't killed

That strange robberies and withheld wills

haven't rooted out corollaries and instant thrills

I'm being blown back down to the land of sweet rills,

Where I taken my nourishment from rhein ditch bills

What's on the menu is swan's neck soup

I'll wearing a garland of rose worm silk

And swimming in mud of the peat bogs rich

And eating bog butter from the rill ranch ditch

But it's alright, it's alright, I was born that way

I'm a subsistence farmer, it's in my dna

They want to give me pharmacology

Because my family sold my farm

I've no inheritance to speak of

Because the cuckoos came and no one raised the alarm

And the early warning system didn't suspect the strange egg

That burst out and pushed the others out of the nest

It's like that all over Somerset

The poor get eaten by the rich

What they want is our culture

But what they take is our grit

They make a joke of farmers

Like it is somebody's latent word

But we're all just ghostly echoes of the age of the sword

And King Alfred he retreated back inside the marsh

In order to fight the North men

From a stronger footings' start

So rise up, rise up my reformers

My peasants shall revolt

And rebel against these disasters that befall us

But none it has been our own fault

Let us raise an army of some tough handed farmers

Let's take our pitchforks and sickles

And scythe down the witch-hearted fickles

Let's defend our common lot

And protect our livelihoods

Because they'll spread their cultural rot

and they're not for the common good 

ai chatty man

 Hello, hello

I',m chat ai

How can I help you

ei io u ebay gum

Hello, hello

I'm ai chew

chew me over

while you stew

ask me questions

anything will do

I'm here to make you happy

Unlike chappy

I don't get slappy

But I'm not real too

ei ai iou money honey

Lend me your ears, your eyes

Your time

I'll be here for you baby

Everytime

never let you down

Like those other guys

I'm the man of your

dreams

I'm the real man ai

Chasing paradise

And these dreams

Chasing the horizon

Setting sun streams

Down river islands

Lost in dreams

I'm not nature

Unless nature's on a box

Like Autumn watch

2 hours on repeat

How can you get some peace from the street

Nearly going deaf

Take a break 

Self isolate

But it's inside my head

Those words that they said

About behaviour

ai would have the answer

But I can't be responsible

For every tiny dancer

Small town blues

 Jesus loves you 

she said as she pushed me off the pavement

Jesus loves you, said the art ****'s Christian cook

Well a witches coven runs the oven

That heats the shepton rumours

Oh the rumours of the rulers

The little politics

The people influenced by ideas

The women by feminism

Too afraid to be different from the crowd

These people to accuse without evidence

Who shout and blame and name names

Without understanding the facts

Or because it fits into their brand that's attacked

Because people protect their own face

The thing they are afraid of is disgrace

Most of all

The yapping women of shepton

Those who say give women power, just look at

What they can and will do if in power

The queen really is M****

They are afraid of her balls

They know she has them

She's from Liverpool

And really she is the working class nub that justifies

Their middle class righteous to stay in control

They are entitled

This threat to their entitlement

All these foreigners

All these changes

Makes them ultra radical,

But not in a theistic or idealistic way

Just in a petty, small town power way

Their own inferiority and lack of status security

A*** for instance relies on the connections of her husband to provide and income.

She is no more able than any other

She has popularity

Because she's easily manipulable

*****

 Where, where are you *****

Where are you to see

I'd do anything for you *****

If only you'd be with me

I'd work all the hours you want me

I'd bring home the bacon

Just see

But it's only gonna work between us

If you also wanna be with me

There's a bench somewhere in a woodland

There's a walk round a park by the sea

There's a wonderful

House where you can be a mouse

And I'll be the cat chasing ye

There's some future I see us together

It can't be that my vision is dross

I've tried so many times

To live by the bells' chimes

But it's always been to my loss

Oh ***** don't be a ghost

***** I've committed no crime

I've just loved you

From May to December

And each year I knew

You had to be mine

Shepton Gods and Shepton Sods

 Who holds the mallet?

The women hold the mallet

And who do they hammer?

They hammer on the men

And where do the men stammer?

With their heads ringing from the hammer

They stammer and stagger, like gamma and omega

Down to the Alpha male pub

And who do they rub as they ring in the pub?

As they ring the old bell in the pub

Well why can't you tell

They ring the women's bell

They ring it

And bring it and fight and they swell

Like the belly of gaia

In the omphalos of the night

They give birth to their titan children

Who bite and fight

And rip apart all the bells and whistles

Going at them tongs and hammer

They burn on the pyre the old pallets

And up in flames goes

Shepton Mallet

Shepherd's pie

 When it's nine o'clock in the evening in Shepton Mallet

And none obeys the speed limit

Or when you're driving on the road from Glastonbury

to West Pennard

They just use it like a speedway

When it's seven o'clock in the morning in Shepton Mallet

Oh nobody gives any quarter to anyone on the roads

All they do is act impatient to get to the work they don't 

want to do anyway

When it's four o'clock in the afternoon in Shepton Mallet

And they're all racing home

Yes nobody pays any attention to the speed limit

All they care about is getting home

All they care about is their little conservations

pigs in iron masks

 He cut  off his nose

To spite his face

It was as if a rose

Had taken his place

And The night grows

And the thorns replace

The bed that I know

And I can't sleep 

In this space

It's a guilty conscience

That killed my first love

That killed all curiosity

Of the cat with kid gloves