Amparse, amparse: lower set of French class
Ompasse, ompasse: shove it up your pomp ass
Umpasse, umpasse: stick it up your jumped-up ass
Impasse, impasse: stick to English, jackass.

[Sorry. I know it’s a bit mean but the continuing need for the use of this word has turned what was once an endearing characteristic into a bugbear]


turning around

Nothing has changed for
the folks in control around here
are still pretty deranged
and there’s a strange atmosphere,
in which little is clear but,
if you put your ear to the ground,
there’s a steer in the sound,
that the will of the people is turning around,
as the magical spell disappears.


Smoked out kipper is building again
With concerns for Brexit’s “betrayal”
He wants to command a revivalist band
(Like UKIP but with different veils).

Farage has reached his breaking point
On claims to higher moral ground
And now intends to reoffend
And take his fundament to town

The xenophobic whisperer
Is taking back control
On his nudge-nudge-wink-wink hobby horse
His cause and cherished goal

A maggot in the apple
In the orchard of this ancient land
Now buzzes for attention with his
“Isn’t it interesting..?” brand

The necrotising fasciitis
Ulcerating England’s soul
Is menacing the sepsis, now,
That poisoned his, so long ago


The common ground
Pounding in pounds
Shilling for dollars
Shilling for rubles
Some, for half a crown

Queen makes plea

The Queen is magnificent and I loathe that she has to watch the United Kingdom and its people unravel so. She is right, in principle. Nevertheless:

”With respect, your Majesty, it’s not just difficult to ‘respect’ points of view founded on ignorance, xenophobia & lies… it’s downright dangerous.” ~ James O’Brien (25/01/19) LBC

‘If I may be so impertinent as to remind Her Majesty of this, “stick to your guns” is every bit as ancient a piece of wisdom as “seek the common ground”’ ~ Matthew Parris (25/01/19) Times

We could’ve been anything

We could’ve been anything that we wanted to be,
But don’t it make your heart sad
That some decided no one’s really tried it
To become the best at being mad

We could’ve been anything that we wanted to be
With our potential in spades
But now we’re the guests of a few Blighty pests who
Voted leave but will not go away, yet

They’re crazy for the shore
But their own navigation couldn’t be more poor
Wise guys, they’re the most absurd
Each of them contemptible in deed and every word
They made the big time in all the wrong ways
They’re the very best at being knaves

We could’ve been anything that we wanted to be,
But some found Brexit instead
And now there is flailing, carping and praying
In a Kingdom full of dread
Now it knows it’s shit the bed

We could’ve been anything that we wanted to be
So don’t it make your head spin
The rest of our lives is set to surprise with
A Lucky Dip in an uncollected bin

Lucky dip is our sad collective win
Lucky dip is our mad collective win

[Bugsy Malone – Bad Guys]