Primeval Mudd

Under-informed rantings.

Brendan’s Balls

I wrote a song at last week’s PCS Conference, recorded it today and popped it on Soundcloud. All characters portrayed are, of course, completely fictitious.

We’re going to Brighton, we’re going to put the World to rights,
We’re going to Brighton, to show that we are up for the fight,
Because we are right and the Government’s shite.

When we’ve left Brighton, we’ll show the World what we can do,
When we’ve left Brighton, we hope that you will join the fight too,
Coz what we say is true, the Government’s poo.

Brendan won’t like it at all, Brendan’s balls are too small.

We’re going to London, to have a word Cameron,
We’re going to London, to let him know we’re not going to run,
We’re spoiling his fun, his Government’s done.

We’re going to tell him, that his cuts can go to hell,
We’re going to tell him, the public sector ain’t his to sell,
We’ll tell him aswell that his Government smells,

Brendan won’t impressed, his balls are distressed.

We’ll go to Clapham, to celebrate our victory,
We’ll go to Clapham, to drink and watch a massive telly,
So we can see Cameron on his knees.

Brendan’s just gonna’ watch, his balls have dropped off.

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