Here come the bolshy boys
Making the same old noise
They’ve waited for too long
Rebels without a song

Here come the boys in blue
They know what’s right for you
Rally round to the call
Give in or just conform

Smash up the system
Sit down and listen
Who do you think you are
Jumped Up Rich Man

Where are the heavy men
Churchill and old Stalin
Who sells their bodies now
To old bourgeois Tony Benn

Na na na na…
Do do do do do do…

He’s got a guilty mind
Sucks up the poor he finds
Hardship must be so vital
To someone who chucks their title

JOHN FLORY*
Born 1890
Died of Drink 1927

“Here lies the bones of poor John Flory;
His story was the old,old story.
Money, women, cards and gin
Were the four things that did him in.

He has spent sweat enough to swim in
Making love to stupid women;
He has known misery past thinking
In the dismal art of drinking.

O stranger, as you voyage here
And read this welcome, shed no tear
But take the single gift I give,
And learn from me how not to live.”

*by George Orwell

from The Diary Of A Musical Nobody Chapter 8 – Veer Left