Dan O’Mahoney, you’re the CCTC: A Marine brought in to guard our seas, Against marauding bands of life jacketed savages Who “our green and pleasant lands” would ravage.
Danny, get on your “chariot of fire” and unleash Britannia’s superior force, To repel the mighty Armada of the foe, Paddling over in their tiny boats.
Hail Clandestine Channel Threat Commander, Get your act together, please do not dander. Fetch your “bow of burning gold” But be sure you point it straight and bold.
Your country needs a steady hand, Our perspicacious Government agrees That your fight on the beaches of our lands, Will save us from those Herculean miscreants.
We know that the Ministry for Immigration Compliance, Will always be there for a handy alliance, With our Clandestine Channel Threat Commander And the Department for the salubriousness of Great Britannia.
There once was a couple called Domie and Boris Who hosted a party in their garden of roses All their pals and the media had gathered there For Domie Cummings, his soul to bare
We had a pandemic in the World you see The people were told they were no longer free To go outside and socialise Nor visit their loved ones as they died
But that rule was not for everyone And Cummings broke it with impunity He got a story drafted for us Knowing that Boris would provide immunity
After all Boris had nothing else on his plate Just the pandemic and that could wait So he and his cronies supported their buddy As the truth, his tale, was intended to muddy
Fairy Tale of Barnard Castle [Based loosely] on the tune of “Fairy Tale of New York”, The Pogues]
“ My eyes were fuzzy and I could not see so good So we all got in my car. I’m really quite a dude And then we had a trip to Barnard Castle town But going back again, we had to stop”
Then the river was calling so we took a little walk Alongside it’s rippling flow we passed the time But then we had to leave to drive back home again Then came the miracle, my sight was fine
Now that bit is the truth there will be no regrets And I’ve always got Boris to watch my back Though I spread the beastie through our green and pleasant land I am pretty sure that I’ll not get the sack
Chorus We’ve got cars big as bars We’ve got bank accounts to match So we really don’t care much For daft rules on our patch Just let all the low paid keep this country fit While we open the champagne and dream of Brexit
He’s a bum He’s a twit He’s gotta be on smack If he thinks we believe him He’s buttoned up the back
As the boys of the right wing syndicate were singing Jerusalem The bells were ringing out for Dominie