Duty of Care

Boss number one, he’s on your case,
Boss number two, he just don’t like your face,
Boss number three, he knows,
He knows you can’t say no and so the workload grows and grows.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.

And your mates can see but what can they do?
Yeah they can see the pressure piling up on you.
Head office say…
Well, head office say they need you back at work today, okay?
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.

Compassionate leave request refused,
But here’s some leaflets you can read if you’re confused.
Boss number four, he now wants more and more,
He’s put you down for Sundays, same pay as before.
Or there’s the door.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.

Click here for a version recorded at home, January 2019

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Shellshock

This one didn’t make it onto the Christmas album.

Shellshock
Shellshock

Sent back from the front to the children and me,
There’s a twitch around your mouth where your smile used to be.
Cramps and groans but no broken bones.
Oh my love.

Too haunted to speak and too angry to eat,
You’re clinging to the bed as I change the wet sheet.
Strange yelps and moans but no broken bones.
Oh my love.

Are they old friends that you stare at all night?
Or the enemy impaled, rising up for a fight?
So many unknowns but no broken bones.
Oh my love.

I must endure and pretend to be glad
For these daughters and this son who can’t fathom their dad.
Broken men, broken homes, but no broken bones.
Oh my love.

One summer’s day and you’re off to the shed.
Here’s to regimental pride! Seven swigs till you’re dead.
Lying cold as the stones but no broken bones.
Oh my love.

Click here for a version recorded at home, November 2018

Click here for a version read by Lytisha Tunbridge

Their Front Pages

A song about the Tory war on decency and the Tory rags that fan the flames.

Express Migrant children 01

Their Front Pages

What’s the latest front-page lie?
What packs a tabloid punch?
700,000 “foreign” kids are claiming free school lunch!
They demonize the weak and poor,
There’s no empathy, there’s no shame,
And when they call this Austerity it’s a cull by another name.

Let’s have Princess Di and Maddie stories
From your wretched servile hacks
And never mind the foodbanks, never mind the bedroom tax.
They’ll means-test this, they’ll means-test that
And then reject your claim
Cos when they call this Austerity it’s a cull by another name.

Give us “Rule Britannia” headlines
And then call us lazy shirkers.
Blame Europe, blame the unions, and let’s blame the migrant workers.
Make the old and sick jump through endless hoops
In a twisted hopeless game
Cos when they call this Austerity it’s a cull by another name
And when they call this Austerity it’s a cull by another name.

Click here for a version recorded at home, October 2017

Click here for a version on SoundCloud