I was mildly amused by the lyrical skills demonstrated in -
Fuck off Adam Johnson
youâre going down for noncin!
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Two little boys hadâŠ
maybe not.
Originally posted by @Rallyboy
Two little boys hadâŠ
maybe not.
⊠and just what was going to happen to the Kangaroos after theywere tied down sport? 
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Sadly I think weâve ALL guessed what it is nowâŠ
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In the distance thereâs the changing of the night
Wrapped in blanket cloud to tear your wrongs from rights
This is life traversed more than day by day and you donât have to be a looker just to see youâve lost your way
What do you say?
In the morning he will realise what weâve done
Sheâll pack her things and never tell of how we won
Itâs a change of heart, but this change of heart isnât shared by everyone, but this change of heart wonât help you if you run
My darling go to sleep for me
I will breathe you in
And yes I saw it coming but it still came as a shock when your words made me a liar
I spent the evening locked in books trying to find the route you took out of this mire
This is love in versed and played inside out and yeah you may well be the flautist, but thereâs still no need to flout this all about
It came as no surprise to me she had to go
Her path at sunrise dusted through with April snow
Itâs a change of heart, but this change of heart isnât shared by all you know
And this change of heart wonât help you lift the low
Go to sleep for me
I will breathe you in
Ladadada (x2)
And it came to this and broken ribs in Rotterdam Iâm trying to feel the weight and feel my way, but not at all
Now Iâm waltzing through this angry phase of tired eyes and sickly sweet malaise, to turn a phrase and throw the fight
In the distance thereâs the changing of the night
Wrapped in blanket cloud to tear your wrongs from rights
Itâs a change of heart, but this change of heartâs going to vanish come the light
And this change of heart wonât help you, but I might.
But I might
Shapes within the walkmen
The halo of distortion
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation
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I was a king bee with a head full of attitude
And ashtray heart on my sleeve wounded knees
And my one love song was a tattoo upon my palm
You wrote upon me when you took my hand
You see I I wouldnât say it if I didnât mean it
Drop me and Iâll fall to pieces too easily
Itâs never too late
to recapture the benefits of Section 28.
And itâs never too wild
to change GCSE grade boundaries,
the only victim is the child.
And oh, whoâs gonna be my Martin Luther King?
And Iâll say, whoâs gonna be my Harvey Milk?
And on the steps of parliament, theyâre demonstrating
but whatâs the use when theyâre all cut from the same Eton silk?
Iâll say farewell, farewell to welfare.
And weâve got a recession to beat.
So letâs more money into the jubilee and a millionaire in Downing Street
And weâve all got to pay the bills
when we all work for nothing, I donât see how we ever will.
If I keep my receipts, can I claim back the mistakes and the lives ruined by this government?
Or in another 18 years of budget cuts and tears,
will the people pay for those, just like we pay your rent?
And say farewell, farewell to welfare.
Well give me change, give me equality.
Give me a minister for women that donât represent me.
Give me a decent, honest Nick whoâs on the level,
until the first glimpse of power, heâll make a deal with the devil.
And you tell me that this is democracy
And you tell me that it ainât no âall boys clubâ.
And as the thousands march on Westminster
Look how quickly their demands are snubbed.
And you ask me: âWhere is the youth vote?â
Well they didnât let me in,
so youâll find me in the pub,
raising a toast, to the ghost of welfare.
And I used to dream of a Britain where Iâd be proud to bring up kids.
These days, Iâd settle for a Britain where Iâd be allowed to bring up kids.
And, Mrs May, if I may be so bold as to say that your archaic view of family holds no relevance today.
If you think that honest people really should be turned away
from IVF and B&Bs just because theyâre gay,
I suggest you stop requesting that we continue to pay our taxes to a party thatâs held us back all the way.
Iâll take my business and my produce and my income tax elsewhere, Iâll say farewell, farewell to welfare.
Iâll say farewell, farewell to welfare.
Theyâll say to hell, to hell with welfare.
Iâll say farewell, farewell, Iâll say farewell, farewell,
weâll Iâll say farewell, farewell to welfare.
The military Intelligence
Two words combined tht canât make sense.
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And so as I patrol in the valley of the shadow of the tricolour
I must fear evil,
for I am but mortal and mortals can only die
Asking questions, pleading answers from the nameless faceless watchers
That stalk the carpeted corridors of Whitehall
Who orders desecration, mutilation, verbal masturbation
In the guarded bureaucratic wombs
Minister, minister care for your children,
order them not into damnation
To eliminate those who would trespass against you
For whose is the kingdom,
the power,
the glory
forever and ever,
Amen
Sup up your beer and collect your fags -
Thereâs a row going on down near Slough.
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Itâs not revolution tactics
Or cause for anarchy
Just a natural fight for a natural life
Of which systems are afraid
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Whaâsa matter you , hey?
Gotta no respect?
What a you think you do?
Why you look a so sad?
Its a not so bad
Its a nice a place
A shuddup a your face.
beautiful, inspiring, lyrical
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He struggles to the breakfast table,
still hung-over, hardly able to come to terms with Mondayâs new demands,
To activate the microwave,to reheat Fridayâs take away,
the cafetiere to muster up some coffee from the grains,
He lights the next last cigarette and promises himself, as he retches in the sink, to change his ways,
He dreams inside the Sun,
Of Zoë, from London, 25.
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In the deserts of Sudan
And the gardens of Japan
From Milan to Yucatan
Every woman, every man⊠Weâre all going on a European tour, a european tour, a european tour!
Well the Milan bit set me off, the others, not so much European!
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2 years time and the world club football final in Tokyo
You have called it Sfcsim 
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Bronx in six
Bronx in six
He never gave any refunds to his mates
Now he wonders why he sits in big house all on his own
With all his plastic and nice painted plates
Bronx in a six, lets do a one skinner you ten bob
Laughing me head off at the old cows that grazed on grass from the boom
It soon turned its jet on ya face and boom
Burnt you Puff Daddy, it maced ya bastards
Good, I fuckinâ laugh like fuck at ya wannabe labels, shoots on location
Cut blokes in stables ra, ra, ra
All ya Chiney wine tasters die in boxes like the rest of us wasters
Bastard, I fucking tie ya veins round ya Vans limited edition
Stitched tongues, bond street like the Von Bondies
He got slapped up right, I wouldnât fuck about with Jack White
Youâre a jammy slug, missed the salt
A twat with nine lives
Youâre a lucky little tit cake die, die, die
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
I couldnât give a fucking shit what you think about me, cunt
What ya saying now whereâs ya wife? ya kids? ya house?
You ainât got none you silly billy
All gone quiet on the wanker front
Gary Coopers on the clue cause he stuck to his guns
Radio edit, oh its so nice
Lauren Laverne keeps playing tumbling dice
Just like you with ya Maharishi shoulder bag
Walking the strip like you fucking own the path
You wonder why you got no mates?
You pretend to be proud of ya own culture
Whilst simultaneously not giving two fucks about ya own culture
What culture? fuck culture, the blueprint for all control
On the dole, money monk, the monasteryâs faint flicks of reference
Paint a vague idea, a pound in the fruity
Fuck lolly on that scale you cunt, ya mugged
The money monks saying its prays on bank books
Bronx in a six
A single skinner howâs tricks
Bronx in a six
A single skinner howâs tricks
I knocked ya shit vase over one night
I think you was boring women, you slag off about some buying trip to Hanover, alright
Lobbing out the posh nuts and fucking weird fruit as some appetizer
Clean white tiles, a view to the garden, a room with a poo
I nicked all ya takings and ya fucking mates coke too
Bringing women 'round then bragging about the conquest
With ya pot belly Helmut Lang white vest
Autumn, winter 2002 mind fest
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, howâs tricks?
Kate Tempest 
Anything you want to post apart from Bob DylanâŠha!
In Berlin by the wall
You were five foot ten inches tall
It was very nice
Candlelight and Dubonnet on ice
We were in a small cafe
You could hear the guitars play
It was very nice
Oh, honey it was paradise
Lou Reed Berlin 1973
RIP