Sometime in late October 2020, Michael Gove addressed a remote meeting of business leaders and claimed that Brexit was "a bit like moving house". I was instantly reminded of the '60s comedy song 'Right Said Fred' performed by Bernard Cribbins, and was inspired to write this in response...

Right Said Jake

Inspired by the Pogues and Dubliners 1987 hit 'Irish Rover', this is a reworking of that well-known cautionary tale of an ill-fated ship setting forth on a trading voyage complete with a crew of rejects and ne'er-do-wells.  CW: glaring modern parallels :-)

Lyrics:

At a quarter to twelve, January 1st
We set sail from the port of Gravesend
We were sailing a boat full of Tories and worse
To make some American friends
With some sketches we went to a shipyard in Kent
And the thought of those trade deals drove her
After 3 years of graft we'd a good-looking raft
And they called her the Kentish Rover


There was Priti Patel from the 9th ring of hell
There was Dom from the Demonic Hordes
There was Action Man Mark who was scared of the dark
And Nicky and Zac from the Lords
There was Dominic Raab who was grown in a lab
And the bastard who won Bolsover
And Boris the Berk, quite allergic to work
Was the Skipper of the Kentish Rover


We filled half the ship with unused movie scripts
We had 6 tons of damp smokeless coal
We had 500 pounds of the best gammon rounds
And 4000 Greggs sausage rolls
We had 3000 rings made from spare Airbus wings
And two tons of spam pavlova
We were up to our knees in old Coldplay CDs
In the hold of the Kentish Rover


We had sailed 7 days when the champers ran out
And the ship hit a big Russian fog
And the roll-call of clots all turned out to be bots
'Cept myself and old Jacob Rees-Mogg
He stood by the rail shouting 'sense will prevail!'
And the fool, he jumped right over
But his gold dragged him down and the silly sod was drowned...
...I'm the last of the Kentish Rover!

Kentish Rover

This was inspired by a Daily Mail readers' poll a few years back from which it emerged that "Britain's Happiest Year" had been 1957. That explained a great deal to me as it does seem like we've spent a lot of the last 6+ years trying like hell to go back there! Iggy & the Stooges' classic '1969' sprang to mind so I dusted off my artistic licence and 1957 became 1959...

Lyrics:

It's 1959 OK?
Gonna resurrect the old UK
No black and white in unity
Just black and white... TV!


Well yesterday I joined a queue
Nothing else for me to do
Heard Arkwright got some candles in
And if they got matches - win-win!

    Yeah, Arkwright got some candles in
    And if they got matches - win-win!
    
It's 1959 OK?
We're bringing back the old UK!
No black and white in unity
Just black and white... TV!


It's 1959 baby
It's 1959 baby
Oh yeah...

1959

It often seems that basically well-meaning initiatives of whatever kind come in for a lot of flak from armchair critics who were never that invested in the idea in the first place (and the Left are just as guilty of this as the Right in my experience). Bad things absolutely should be called out/ challenged but if it's just not your cup of tea - why not scroll on by?

This is a rewrite of the Bacharach classic 'Walk On By', with a distinct nod to Guildford's finest while I was at it...

Lyrics:

If there's something happening in your town
And you think it's lame
Don't write it down

Scroll on by
Scroll on by

If Facebook sends an invite don't you whinge and whine
(if) you don't like street food or face paint
Respectfully decline
Just scroll on by


Now somebody has some progressive scheme
(But) there's not much for you
Or that's how it seems

Scroll on by
Scroll on by

We'd love to have another person on our side
We'll do the same for you one day
(but) if you don't see why

Just scroll on by
Just scroll on by...

Just going for a scroll through Twitter...

[Instrumental]


Scroll on by
Scroll on by

Don't plague the comments section with your diatribes
No one with power to change things
Has time to reply
Just scroll on by...

Scroll On By

This will probably date fairly quickly (although if this scandal rumbles on until at least the next election that would suit quite a lot of us I think!) but anyway, it's fairly obviously about the Covid PPE scandal and 'Baroness' Mone in particular. What narrative the song has is fictional but strongly inspired by these events...

MIDI track from http://www.acroche2.com/midi_i.html

Lyrics:

[V1]
Here she come now, it’s Michelle Mony
Living it large with her Tory cronies
Give her VIP love and she feel alright now
If we wait our turn, will it turn out right?
Will it turn out right?
Will you share (Yeah), treat us fair (Yeah), she said (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah, yeah)

[Cho]
Will you make a deal (like we wanted)
Said you would (like we wanted)
Well you should (like we wanted)
So be good (Michelle Mony)
Gimme mine (Michelle Mony)
Well she lied (Michelle Mony)
No surprise (Michelle Mony)
But it just ain’t right
She said, yeah, (Yeah), it ain’t fair, (fair), do I care (care) x4


[V2]
Now what do the papers say, Michelle Mony?
Your dealings look kinda Al Capone-y
Twenty-nine million she feel alright now
So don’t stop now, don’t disown me, we need our share
Need our share (yeah), our share (yeah), share (yeah), share (yeah)

[Cho]
Cos you made a deal (like we wanted)
Said you would (like we wanted)
Well you should (like we wanted)
So be good (Michelle Mony)
Gimme mine (Michelle Mony)
Well she lied (Michelle Mony)
No surprise(Michelle Mony)
But it just ain’t right)
She said, yeah, (Yeah), it ain’t fair, (fair), do I care (care) x4

[Bridge]
Ooo, Taking our money, money, money
Ooo, Taking our money, money, money (like she do)
Ooo, Taking our money, money, money (like she do)
Ooo, Taking our money, money, money (like Tories do)
Yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah)


[V3]
Turn on GB News, it’s Michelle Mony
Dispensing the truth with parsimony
Twenty-nine viewers she feels alright now
I say come on Mony let the court determine
Should you keep your ermine?
I say no (go!), I say no (go!), I say no (go!) no (go!) no (go!)

[Cho]
Cos you made a deal (no one wanted)
Like you would (no one wanted)
Cos you could (no one wanted)
It’s no good (no one wanted)
So take a look (Michelle Mony)
Sling yer hook (Michelle Mony)
Hit the road (Michelle Mony)
Just do one thing right
Au revoir (voir), ciao (ciao), adios  and auf weidersehen
yeah, (Yeah), etc...

Michelle Mony

This is actually an original composition rather than a parody (so now you see why I normally just steal someone else's idea!). This may seem like a 'straw man' but I've met a few people like this over the years - they've just been lucky but of course it's all down to their innate superiority...
Lyrics:

Life's alright for Kevlar Kevin
He's never heard of Aneurin Bevan
He's never been unemployed
Says unions make you paranoid

	Got no time to stop and help (says Kevlar Kevin)
	You gotta do it for yourself (says...)
	It's if you win not how you played (says...)
	My luck is all self-made...

Kevlar Kevin married Teflon Tara
Two perfect kids and a Citroen Xsara
House in the suburbs, nice and clean
Right kind of people... if you know what I mean

	Live and let live I say (says Kevlar Kevin)
	Long as they live far away (says...)
	Never had no handouts, me (says...)
	I've worked hard for all you see...

		Rightmove likes our gardens
		And Ofsted like our schools
		Nigel likes the way we think
		Everybody knows the rules


Now the kids are grown and Kev's got dentures
Tara dreams of new adventures
A beat up van and a brand new scene
Last saw her heading down the A15

	And he cracks his morning can (Kevlar Kevin)
	Says he doesn't understand (Kevlar...)
	Now he's finding out the truth (Kevlar...)
	Nobody's really bulletproof

Kevlar Kevin

Susan
(after L. Cohen)
======

Susan doesn't care much for the house beside the river
She can watch the MPs argue from this cafe here in Pinner
And she says the streets are teeming with diversity and danger
But she feeds you chicken korma that's come all the way from Ealing
And just when you are thinking that you have no vote to give her
She puts GB News on telly, shows you Darren Grimes on Twitter
And it seems they have the answers

And you know she won't deliver and you know she'll rob you blind
But something makes you trust her
For she's seen her perfect city in her mind


Now Susan dropped a clanger when she rode the Jubilee line
And spent a long time claiming that her wallet had been stolen
And though it was returned along with oystercard and money
She says 'thieves may be incompetent but thieves they are regardless'
So fosters paranoia from the kindness of a stranger
But she knows we're only human
And we'll vote for law and order every time

And you kind of go along with it although you're disinclined
You think that you should trust her
Cos she's seen your perfect city in her mind


Now Susan shows you pictures from a place across the ocean
There's a stampede on the subway, there is panic in Penn Station
And just as you are wond'ring what this has to do with London
Intelligence and artifice paint pictures of the future
There are lions loose in Lambeth
And Templars by the Tower
There are Spitfires over Soho
And the skies are blue forever
While Susan dusts the mirror

And you know know your future's with her
And somehow you don't mind
You know you'll always trust her
Cos you've seen her perfect city in your mind...

Rewritten by D. Redford
MIDI track from Betty Lou Music

Susan (after L Cohen)

I promise I won't make a habit of ripping off Leonard Cohen songs but seeing our bedraggled leader announcing the election in the pouring rain this couldn't help but pop into my head!

Last Year's Man
(after L. Cohen)

The rain falls down on last year's man,
They crowd around the lectern
Their microphones in hand.
And the music interrupts him loud and bold
With the resurrected prophesies
Of a famous band of old

And the sky fights back tears for mistakes he’ll never mend
And now the rain falls down again
On the face of last year’s man


I went to a conference my enemies had contrived
Anderson the bridegroom
Braverman the bride
They called me a Marxist, oh they had their knives out for me
But I dare not sack you, Braverman
I must think of the Party

And now we fall together, our dreams to no avail
Though we were promised victory
By the Telegraph and Mail


The rain falls down on last year's man,
That’s Mordaunt in the doorway
A broadsword in her hand
Now he’s leaving on a jet plane in the early morning rain
Going to California
Before the levee breaks again

And the sky fights back tears for mistakes he’ll never mend
And will the rain at last erase
Every trace of last year’s man?

Alternative Lyrics and arrangement by D. Redford (c) 2024

Last Year's Man 2024

The Endless Bloody Poetry

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