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2. |
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Have you sold the NHS to all your mates
Overtaxed the poor and axed their interest rates
Have you lined all of your pockets
Put a tonne in a Swiss bank
While the whole thing stinks just like a septic tank
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody's looking glum
Where is our future now? You've sold it to your chums
While you're waiting for the families to starve
Are you trying to cut that deficit in half?
While me granny's sat theer freezin
Her fuel allowance has been axed
You'll be sat in your huge house, warm and relaxed
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody's had enough
There is no future now, like turkeys, we've been stuffed
What would old Maggie do
Probably snatch the milk left out for Santa Claus ahaaaaa haaa
There's no hanging up a stocking on your wall
When your Christmas Dinner comes from a food-hall
While they're frackin' on hillside
There are millions unemployed
While the poor stay poor, the rich stay overjoyed
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s strapped for cash
In the Bleak Mid-Winter, public spending has been slashed
So here it is Merry Christmas, Christmas cheer is looking sparse
Where are Midge and Geldof, now the pound is on its arse?
So now your Christmas is cancelled
Cos the there's no-one having fun
Look to the future now… they've only just begun
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3. |
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Have you sold the NHS to all your mates
Overtaxed the poor and axed their interest rates
Have you lined all of your pockets
Put a tonne in a Swiss bank
While the whole thing stinks just like a septic tank
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody's looking glum
Where is our future now? You've sold it to your chums
While you're waiting for the families to starve
Are you trying to cut that deficit in half?
While me granny's sat theer freezin
Her fuel allowance has been axed
You'll be sat in your huge house, warm and relaxed
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody's had enough
There is no future now, like turkeys, we've been stuffed
What would old Maggie do
Probably snatch the milk left out for Santa Claus ahaaaaa haaa
There's no hanging up a stocking on your wall
When your Christmas Dinner comes from a food-hall
While they're frackin' on hillside
There are millions unemployed
While the poor stay poor, the rich stay overjoyed
So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s strapped for cash
In the Bleak Mid-Winter, public spending has been slashed
So now your Christmas is cancelled
Cos the there's no-one having fun
Look to the future now… they've only just begun
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4. |
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Wake up, little Susie, wake up
Wake up, little Susie, wake up
We've both been sound asleep, wake up, little Susie, and weep
The movie's over, it's four o'clock, and we're in trouble deep
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie, well
Whatta we gonna tell your mama
Whatta we gonna tell your pa
Whatta we gonna tell our friends when they say, "ooh-la-laâ"
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie, well
I told your mama that you'd be in by ten
Well Susie baby looks like we goofed again
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie, we gotta go home
Wake up, little Susie, wake up
Wake up, little Susie, wake up
The movie wasn't so hot, it didn't have much of a plot
We fell asleep, our goose is cooked, our reputation is shot
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie, well
Whatta we gonna tell your mama
Whatta we gonna tell your pa
Whatta we gonna tell our friends when they say, "ooh-la-laâ"
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie
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5. |
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When they’re camped out in the snow
Outside the Asda or Tesco
I despair for the future of the human race
‘cos by night it should be quiet
But by midnight it’s a riot
They’ll brek darn the doors to mek damn sure that they’re first in line today
Well I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
When the chavs are feightin for a flat-screen on display
Oh I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
Why don’t you shop online this Christmas?
When it’s rammed in Marks and Sparks
I think “Stuff this for a lark!”
I would much rather take me chances with eBay
Have you forgotten festive cheer?
Don’t stab a shopper, grab a beer
You can shove this farce right up yer arse until after Boxing Day!
Well I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
Just remember we’re in Britain this is not the USA
Oh I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
Don’t punch a stranger out this Christmas?
So if you’re fighting to the front
For an X-Box you’re a chuff
Who is more sadistic than 50 Shades Of Grey
‘cos when Santa brings his sleigh
Around for Jesus’ birthday
You find the kids toys were broken in the fight to the checkout on the way
Well I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
I can leave the Frozen boxset for a tenner for another day
Oh I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
I’m gonna stay in me house til Christmas
Well I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
It’s even more ridiculous than Donald Trump’s toupee
Oh I’m glad it’s not Black Friday every day
What the hell went wrong with Christmas?
Why don't you think it through this Christmas?
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6. |
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Listen up, listen in, we’re ‘bart to begin
Well I came to sing, bugger me, what a sin
But dun’t git yer backs up, if we turn t’sarnd up
That’s how we roll, till the whole room just cracks up
Get up, stand up, come on and chuck yer hands up
When the crowd are reelin’, we mek ‘em hit t’ceilin’
I dun’t wear a string vest, ‘not like I’m a hunk
I’ll eat a pork pie and then I’ll tek the crust home
Think it, thunk it, we ha’n’t gorra drum-kit
We’ve got more beats than seeds in a pumpkin
Dun’t be shocked, sure ‘nuff we wain’t stop
Coz we’ve got more hits than New Kids On’t Block
We came to get darn
Came to get darn
So get art ‘yer seats ‘n jump ararnd
Jump ararnd
Jump ararnd
Jump ararnd
Jump up jump up and get darn.
JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! EVERYBODY JUMP!
Just serve me a pint of Tarnlife on draught
‘Cos I’m nowt like a brush, I’ve nivver bin daft
Well word to yer mother, I’m ‘ere wi’ me brothers
And I’ve got more rhymes than a cart-load of others
But just like a Bar-Steward Son I’ve returned,
For anyone rocking but gently’s concerned
We rewrite lyrics for you to have fun
So if you‘ve come to see us, hope you have some
Me rappin’ dun’t scan when I run art of breath
We wear tank-tops, so we dun’t catch uz death
Yes we dress to kill, uz hair it looks brill
We’re t’Bar-Steward Sons and we aim to thrill
We’re the cream o’t’ crop, we rise to’t’ top
But we ain’t the kinda stuff they stick on Top Of The Pops
You know we work greater than Mr Motivator
As a personal trainer for Mr Johnny Vegas
But we ain’t going out like no daft chuffs
You know we’ve got style, yeah, you know we’re the right stuff
We go art rarnd t’Tarn, sup the pints darn
Fill up yer heead until you wek up like t’Dawn of the Dead
We’re coming to get ya, coming to get ya
Well we‘re spittin’ art lyrics ‘cos Westwood, we’ve bet ya!
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7. |
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The Devil went darn to Barnsley Tarn
He war lookin' for a soul to steal.
He war in a bind 'cos he war way behind
And he war willin' to mek a deal
When he came across this young ’un
Laikin’ on t’fiddle and playin’ shit ‘ot.
Well the Devil jumped up like a big daft lump, he said,
"Ey up, I’ll tell thee what.
I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player, too.
And if you'd care, to tek a dare, I'll mek a bet with you.
Now, you play pretty good fiddle, lad, but I’m gunna mek thee see.
I'll bet a fiddle of gold against yer soul,
‘Coz I think I'm better than thee."
The lad said, "My name's Björn, and it might be a sin.
But I'll take your bet, you big red get
'Coz I'm t’best that's ever bin!"
Björn you better get yer bow and play your fiddle hard,
'Coz hell's brok loose in Barnsley Tarn and t’Devil deals the cards.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle med of gold.
But if you lose, the Devil gets yer soul.
The Devil got his fiddle and he said, "Reight, off we go!"
And fire flew from his fingertips and he put on quite a show
And then he brought in Graham from Saxon, and Maartin Allcock as well
Eliza Carthy on fiddle, they din’t act civil
No, they rocked like chuffin' hell!
When the Devil finished, Björn just said, "Thar pretty good, t’old lad,
But sit darn ovver theer for a bit and I’ll mek thee look reight bad.”
A Doonican frum Sweden livin’ in t‘Tarn
I’ll show you what’s t’crack, I’m t’best ararnd
T’Devil’s goin’ darn ‘coz he’s Number 1
Playing them hits with The Bar-Steward Sons
The Devil bowed his head because he knew that he’d bin beat.
And he laid that golden fiddle on’t ground at Björn’s feet.
Björn said, "Devil, just come on back if thy ivver wants to try ageeain.
'Cos I told you once, you big daft chuff, I'm t’best that’s ever bin!"
A Doonican frum Sweden livin’ in t‘Tarn
I’ll show you what’s t’crack, I’m t’best ararnd
T’Devil’s goin’ darn ‘coz he’s Number 1
Playing them hits with The Bar-Steward Sons
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8. |
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released December 7, 2017
