You need a man who makes you smile when you get home
You need someone who tips the scale at 13 stone
Someone deserving of your love and loyalty
You need a better man than me

You need a man with an innate sense of romance
Someone resistant to capricious circumstance
Someone who’s more than an echoed apology
You need a better man than me

But I don’t want you to leave
Selfishly
I don’t want you to leave
I don’t want you to leave
Selfishly
I don’t want you to leave

You need a man who see’s flower’s a fair purchase
You need someone who knows, less is not more, it’s less
Someone, clearly located, south of vanity
You need a better man than me

A state of constant crisis breaks a population’s will subtly
Disguise the stick as carrot, slight of hand, and divide a family
Two week’s wait for a Doctor’s appointment, then reduced aftercare
Reclassify the frail and disabled, let them crawl up the stair

When did we begin to learn to live with this?
Constant erosion of community
When did we begin to learn to live with this?
Self serving irresponsibility

Architectural vandalism, tax donation, and PPE scams
Our essential services’ heedlessly squandered into, private hands
Capitalism, untethered, unrestrained, propelled by gluttonous greed
Divide and conquer the mass, ghettoise, by gender, colour or creed

When did we begin to learn to live with this?
Zero hours’ as a working week
When did we begin to learn to live with this?
I’m alright Jack, and a callous streak

Get up, and get out from under
Get up, and get out from under

Pre-pubescent’s in gang’s, armed with knives, who can barely write or read
Betrayed by cuts and shifting targets, education as commodity
Examples of moral and social discipline, are scarce, or weakly implied
Meanwhile my local chip shop’s open longer hour’s than my local pigsty

When did we begin to learn to live with this?
Youth on youth stabbings’ newspaper front page
When did we begin to learn to live with this?
Volunteer labour and minimum wage

Get up, and get out from under
Get up, and get out from under
Get up, and get out from under
GET UP AND GET OUT FROM UNDER

Eight a.m., the start of the day shift
Could be worse, I suppose
By five p.m., the end of the day shift
I’ll regret the earlier phrase I chose

Nobility lay in hard working hand’s
What you give is what you surely receive
But as I arrive
Punch the clock, sign in
Dignity’s the first to leave
Dignity’s the first to leave

Good morning, Welcome To The New Victorian Age
Time to rise up, raise your voice, realise
Solidarity of thought and deed are powerful
The Class War’s real, not mythologised

Ten thousand rule’s all in isolation
Don’t you realise what they all add up to?
I’m beginning to get a tad bored
Of being told what I can and can’t do

Nobility lay in hard working hand’s
What you give is what you surely receive
But as I arrive
Punch the clock, sign in
Dignity’s the first to leave
Dignity’s the first to leave

Doesn’t mean you should, just because you can
The biggest corporate crime’s the fleecing of the hard working man

Doesn’t mean you should, just because you can
The biggest corporate crime’s the fleecing of the hard working man

Good morning, Welcome To The New Victorian Age
Good morning, Welcome To The New Victorian Age
Good morning, Welcome To The New Victorian Age
Good morning, Welcome To The New Victorian Age

I could be a pauper, I could be a King
I could be both, and everything in between
But if my memory serves
I’ve let you down in every possible way
I’m hoping one day that my future burns bright
My shooting star will soar and light up the night
Still I’ll always owe more to you, than I could ever repay

I’ve been a liar, I’ve been a thief
I’ve played for time till people lost belief
I’ve used silence as a defence
For turning black and white into grey
You could send me to Heaven, you could send me to Hell
If you send me nowhere, it’s probably just as well
Still I’ll always owe more to you, than I could ever repay

How did I fall so far, so fast?
Seems my youthful determination is a thing of the past
Descriptions are cruel, but true in my case
I’ve done things I can’t amend, sanitise, defend or erase

I could be a pauper, I could be a King
I could be both, and everything in between
But if my memory serves
I’ve let you down in every possible way
I may amount to much, I may amount to none
I maybe to blind to hear the starting gun
Still I’ll always owe more to you, than I could ever repay

Italian stiletto
Talk of artificial islands
A water bound Streisand
There’s movement on the second floor

No loyalty or obligation
Just disproportionate
False dawn’s and sleeping giant’s
And fractious separation

Feedback Old Bailey, peel, perfect pitch
Too many bells, in Shoreditch
Arlo’s and De-Borah’s infest Bromley By Bow
Coming to Leyton, then into Walthamstow
Earring’s for dogs, Marmalade in Coffee
Remember Mr.Men, now the Mr.Many
Feedback St.Clement’s, peel, perfect pitch
Too many bells, in Shoreditch

I’m not seeking an opinion
Or approval, logic dictates
A stunning lack of foresight
Vampire’s become victims

Joke’s are obstreperous children
History enshrined in wood and wire
Imagineer’s and funster’s
Snap, crackle and K-Pop

If I remember, nobody could wait
To sell their plot and move away to Essex
Mary-Le Bow held no charm then
In Maggie’s smoke and mirror’s property fix

Feedback Stepney, peel, perfect pitch
Too many bells, in Shoreditch
Occasionally yes, but basically no
Rebranded idea’s, everything’s retro
Hirsute Wally’s and Wilf’s as far as the eye can see
Don’t try the slang, son, you ain’t got a Danny
Feedback St.Martin’s, peel, perfect pitch
Too many bells, in Shoreditch

Everyone has an opinion
Not everybody has a choice
Does age or disillusion
Rob one of their voice?  

Head above the parapet
No splinters from the fence
Unsatisfied and dissatisfied
With derisory recompense

Enemy don’t travel by dinghy
747-8 VIP
I have a joke about trickle down economics
But you won’t get it very easily

Here comes The Great Contraction
Limiting our freedom to choose
Severing our interaction
Peacocking on Prime Time, J’accuse

Atavistic urge for vengeance
Risible cerebral fortitude
Did we peak at paper?
Scrutinised, fact checked, peer approved

Contrived dispositions
Why do we reward cruelty with power?
A Reckoning dressed as Revolution
Ref :15 minutes shy the full hour

A thing of beauty is a joy forever
Freedom, truth and democracy
We nearly lost ‘em once
Now we’re trying again………