Fake Tales of Easy Brexit

On hearing our Prime Minister was going to be spending tomorrow in Rotherham, I thought, “You should be in Brussels, but you’re in Rotherham??” and then…

Fake tales of easy Brexit

Echo through the room.

More point to a fatal exit,

And our impending doom.

And over there’s the bloody Tory party, yeah

With their titles and their glasses of fine wine.

And anyone under forty will be in the toilet,

Practicing their lines.

I don’t want to hear you,

(Kick them out, kick them out).

I don’t want to hear you, no,

(Kick them out, kick them out).

I don’t want to hear you,

(Kick them out, kick them out).

I don’t want to hear you,

I don’t want to hear your,

Fake tales of easy Brexit

Echo through the air.

And there’s a few bored faces at the back,

All wishing they weren’t there.

And as the microphone squeaks,

Carole Cadwalladr’s phone beeps.

Yeah, she’s dashing for the exit.

Oh, she’s running to the streets outside.

“Oh, you’ve saved me, “ she screams down the line,

“The lies were fucking wank,

And I’m not having a nice time.”

I don’t want to hear you,

(Kick then out, kick them out).

I don’t want to hear you, no,

(Kick then out, kick them out),

Yeah, Sarah Vine said it’s amazing, though,

So all that’s left,

Is the proof that hate’s not only blind but deaf.

He talks of Irish backstops, but he’s in the Bar,

I don’t quite know the distance,

But he’s not been far,

Yeah I’m sure it’s pretty far.

And yeah, I’d love you to solve my problems,

But you’re not in Brussels, you’re in Rotherham.

So get back to Parliament, and pick up the rulebook.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

So get back to Parliament, and pick up the rulebook.

So get back to Parliament, and pick up the rulebook.

So get back to Parliament, and pick up the rulebook.

So get back to Parliament, and pick up the rulebook.

With many apologies to Alex Turner.