Man at the back with the navy blue hat Woman in the middle in pink Person wearing the grey anorak What do you creatures think? chorus Do you agree with the lady on the gangway? I think we must discuss her pertinent points Should pop stars have a view if they are called Kanye? Does the panel think The Carpenters smoked joints? You there, sir, with bright green hair What is your opinion? Capital punishment, do you care? Death shall have no dominion Ooooh chorus And what about those straight bananas? You there with the dog Whose that in top hat and pyjamas? William Rees Mogg

I'm hanging from the lampost at the corner of our street I'm your friendly nazi neighborhood spy Oh me, oh my I'm better than cctv or Wifi I'm a funky little fascist I was on the BNP list But now they've hung me out to dry Oh me, oh my It would bring a tear to a jap's eye If only I had been around when there was Trump and Brexit Or a secret dossier - I'd know how to sex it up I'd have a field day and a field marshall's breakfast As a correspondent for the Daily Mail or Daily Express I'm hanging from the lampost at the corner of our street I'm your friendly nazi neighborhood spy I'm hanging from a lampost Have a swing, Grab hold me ankles I'm your friendly nazi neighborhood spy

Well, you should see how misty I make my shower panel And I don't have to try too hard at getting dry I've got a right big bastard of a flannel I scrub masel to pieces when I wake up every day When I fart it melts the creases on my towel right away I'm smooth enough to swim the Bristol Channel I've got a right big bastard of a flannel Oh, I love gon ootside feeling clean After rubbing myself down with germolene It's unusual I know But I love to have a glow Making my grand entrance oh I've got a right big bastard of a flannel My deodorant can even make my cat hiccup And with my gel making my hair stick up People don't turn up their noses My burps all smell of roses I've got a right big bastard of a flannel

I've got meself a brand new job Down at our local cop shop Working in the IT department I fix the PCs' PCs Rid them of viral disease Make them politically correct Yes I make the PCs' PCs PC Flush the ram and memory It's political corectness gone met But I also get computers Wrapped in plastic bags Evidence from perverts and crime scenes I have to look inside you see It makes your flesh creep, dearie me You should see what I can see When I'm rebooting Windows Lots of porn, lots of wee Not the game console, oh dear You should see what I can see When I'm rebooting Windows There's some whose on the dark web And some who're in the deep And some who fantasise over Webbed fingers and feet If you know your history Don't show it to your granny Oh you should see what I can see When I'm rebooting Windows Hard drives full of muck and bile Talk about X files Oh you should see what I can see When I'm rebooting Windows

Every now and then you'll see in the zeitgeist, the post punk revival come around. I don't care if I can't play guitar, my uke is more profund. See me chop like the Gang Of Four, or be discordant like The Fall. With my little schtick of Post Punk Rock, across the internet I stroll. It may be tacky but I never complain, it's nice to have a nibble at it now and again Every day wherever I stray the kids all round me flock. One afternoon a punter wrote on his blog Saying that The Pop Group - constituted prog So I jumped in to say they could be a bit of a slog With my little schtick of Post Punk Rock With my little schtick of Post Punk Rock, Along the internet I stroll, Not everyone knows who The Monochrome Set is Do the Human League belong before they got coquettish Every day wherever I stray the kids all round me flock. Simon Reynolds set the retro ball on its way And pretty soon you'd hear the cry, I love Josef K All the jaggy guitars came out to play My little schtick of Post Punk Rock. With my little schtick of Post Punk Rock, Along the internet I stroll In the forums I went scrolling each night No wonder no girl ever stuck to me tight Every day wherever I stray the kids all round me flock. A fellow took my photograph it cost one and two. I said " Can't you make me look more like 23 Skidoo?" "You've properly mucked it up the only thing I can do is My little schtick of Post Punk Rock. "

Ukelele delay Crank up the reverb, make it sing Ukelele delay Strum accross my banjo string Until the break of day We can make George Flambe swing Ukelele delay I'm shameless, sorry Bob Dylan Can't wait for the end of this ukelele phase At least I didn't cover Leonard Cohen It could have been worse, I could have played double bass Or blown my own trombone

Ooh what a pickle we're in missus A fool in the White House, a fool in north Korea We're even having to march for science These tiny leaders might not be giants I see white shadows under a mushroom I see blood in the shaving mirror Time and time and time again Meanwhile the Mail wants to crush the saboteurs If you want a protest song don't look to Olly Murs There's a parcel of rogues being done for electoral fraud And not a single one prepared to fall on their sword I want to be still beside you - quiet and still beside you Listening to your breathing and feeling your warmth again War ukelele War ukelele - this uke kills fascists baby I'm scared, so scared I've only got four strings I feel I should be doing more important things I don't think I could stand another general election All this stabbing and wounding - only to get the Tories back They just want to batter you to your feet and knees and elbows You feeling strong and stable? You want chaos instead? Corresponding disasters every night on the TV Sickening reality keeps gripping me in its guts All my friends talk and joke and laugh about Armageddon But like a nightmare it's still waiting there at the end of every day War ukelele... etc. I don't think I could stand another ten years of this fighting Do you remember the 1990s - it seemed compassion was on the way We thought we'd done with dictators and someone would care But all we ended up with was Tony Blair And ever since we've been going down the drain Equality seems impossible, the future is insane We're on a war footing, Corbyn sings freedom for Tooting A little beardy man, all wrinkles and bulging eyes War ukelele.. etc. 2-4-6-8 Ukelele Sing if you're glad to be George Flambe

Tommy Sheppard SNP He used to give me gigs But now he hangs round that Westminster crowd Kicking the Tories in the dick He used to be in Labour But now they're dead of course So haud yer wheesht, make Edinburgh East The land of Salt n Sauce So let us get him back to Whitehall In the Houses of Parliament Theresa May contain nuts, Boris Johnson's a klutz And we all know what rhymes with Jeremy Hunt

The Conservative Unionist Negotiating Team are all over this So send in the CUNTS Useless on Brexit Ooh you made me live Never mind the magic money tree It's you, the DUP Ooh you saved my skin now honey Ooh you made me live... Ooh you're the best friends that I ever had I'll be with you for a long time We'll walk in the sunshine and I want you to know That I can play the flute And bang a drum too Terrorist friend Oh she's learned a brand new melody On the House Of Commons floor It's the one she learned from Ian Paisley The tache Michael White wore Looking over the cliffs of Dover A giant Theresa May Flicking the Vs at them overseas Keeping Johnny Foreigner away A Wicker May, A Wicker May... Oh God. Oh Jesus Christ. Between Boris and Donald Trump Between a clown and a cunt All of the arms that have been sold To Saudis for a pot of gold Keep the receipt Make a spreadsheet Vote with your feet Through fields of wheat Theresa May Is a shitebag She won't debate on TV She might as well have a white flag Get into the sea You talk shite, hen... Reasons to hate Tories one two three Strong and stable, strong and stable I'm your mum, I'm your mum Let me sell your health care, let me sell your health care, Don't live long, don't live long Theresa May is a shitebag... Theresa!