The road to Shepton Mallet

 My tax bill came in I said

Wow how come?

The drum on the beat continued to hum

I put down the letter and

Twiddled my thumbs

Wow, I said wow

To the police I give a tenth of my vow

Jeeze Louise, I need to take a bow

For the Fire and rescue, I give a twelfth

Wow, I said wow

Adult social care almost as much as the police

Wow, Moses, Holy crocuses

If their parents never had them

We'd be sweet as roses

Burn that money somehow

Who are these cronies 

In the local government?

Make a change!

Make a change!

Every plan fulfilled

has been painted on the pavement

Make a change right now

Most of it goes on fire and rescue

Drunk people with candles setting light their curtains

Two fifths goes on the local town council

Make a change right now!

Two thirds goes on Somerset County Council

Keep talking, keep talking!

If everything is pink then

We better start walking

Walking to Shepton Mallet now!

Better get in Shape!

Better stop your shirking

Keep working, keep working!

Everyone's a jerk

If you can't quit baulking

Keep talking now

With all this money

Why are the roads still unsafe?

They keep shirking, keep shirking

With all this money

Why don't they fuck themselves?

Keep working now

Work this way until you're in your grave

Keep digging, keep digging

Then some teenager comes along

And desecrates with foam of shave

Keep talking now

Who knows when 

This song is gonna end?

Not me, not me

Let's end it here as it's all going wrong

Council taxes will always increase!

King for a day

 What if we were kings just for a day

24 hours on a king's pay

They'd do anything, anything that we say

If we were kings, just for a day

just for a day

Boris Johnson

 He was judged by his scandals and not his candles

Government of Love

 Oh you could be the next prime minister of my heart

You're the elected officials of the consciousness of love

And love is a policy which must tow the party line

Oh that thin thread between your heart and mine

Come muster your support, get the backings in the commons

Let the MPs of your Aorta call out in the chambers of belongings

And if you lost your heart in this election well why not try again

There will be another one coming and you'll be in the running my friend

I wrote down my constitution on the tissue paper of a lung

And blew it up like a balloon, so all the letters sung

And so enlarged was my chest, so courageous was my heart

But devious dealings and cowardice brought down my only art

For love is the exhibition, the portrait or the bust

Ex-rulers of love's country in a museum of lust

And sickness in love's hospitals where I spent my rest

Convalescing in love's company, or perhaps only its ghostliness

I sorted out my passport so I could cross love's borders

I had to escape my impasse, with my knights hauled up in corners

And their horses kicking around in one horse towns, 

where none could find a drink, 

well this town ain't big enough for the both of us

What the hell else did you think?

Love was what it ought to be, oh so long ago,

Just a wisp in the willows, just a twang of the bow

And yet it turned into a mist

That seeped amongst the shadows

And our boats they broke through the whiteness

On the way to marshy gallows 

The ghost of Christmas past or Brexit's Monster

 There'll be pigs in blankets

huddling cold meat in the street

And chlorinated chicken getting cold chicken feet

The response has been paltry poultry and foul Fowl

And it's fair game for the pheasants

Who follow the plough

And furlongs of furloughs have run the furrows low

As the mechanized industry is on the hill's brow

Like a silouhette of a monster in the dawn's early glow

Well its Brexit's monster now

What the working class wanted were better wages

To get the jobs back that they felt were their heritage

But what they have got are empty shelves and vacancies

Which none of them will fill for they've run out of sympathies

The jobs don't pay high enough they say with disdain

Then doctor Brexit comes at them again and again

This is independent Britain, this your birth right's claim

But who will do the work is Dr Brexit's Monster

He's mean and he's stiff, he's wonky and lacks self control

But his bionic limbs and till fields for vegetables

He can plough furrows, and he can glean lands

And he doesn't mind getting dirt on his hands

Oh sure he's an android, but what did you expect?

From the next generation of workers after Brexit

Few British workers could compete with European toll

And therefore our farming will be under mechanized control

They wanted higher wages, what they got was higher prices

of Food, fuel, electricity and gas in their houses

And if they can get to work at all

They can barely afford their utility bill

Oh it's the revenge of Brexit's monster

Well we treated him like he was a fool,

Writhing around in a small gene pool

With recruitment sharks hanging around his school

Yes he's an office clerk because he don't work with tools

He's got a mental age of 3 but he's learning fast

From his AI brain and his hardwired heart

And his mother board's fried and his fatherland

Smells of fart

Oh he's Brexit's monster