My country right or wrong? I don’t think so.

“Buller, buller, buller” is reportedly the Bullingdon Club rallying cry with which Boris Johnson greeted fellow ex-members before the reputation of the club became so toxic that even he claimed to regret it.

“Little Britain” is less a reference to a TV show that I’ve never actually seen than to the myth of “plucky little Britain” standing alone against its enemies during two World Wars.

Thames House and Vauxhall Cross are the headquarters of MI5 and MI6 respectively. I don’t believe that either organization is unequivocally evil, but clearly both are tainted by political pragmatisim. Sanctions against Russia since the invasion of Ukraine have been selective, and the UK government is even more selective when it comes to criticizing the activities of political allies.

I prefer not to go into detail about the unspeakable far-right agitators and politicians, or the so-called patriots who seized upon the deaths of innocent children in Southport as an excuse for rioting and looting.

‘Perfidious Albion’ is a term that’s been used to describe Britain’s duplicitous political behaviour at least as far back as the 19th century.

Anyway, I’m too old and feeble to be much of an activist nowadays, but at least I can still vent my spleen in song. At least, I don’t think it’s illegal yet, though another four years of Tory repression might have changed that.

This song was finished today, so it’s obviously an imperfect performance (and one word has already been changed since this recording). ‘Castles’ is now ‘apartments’.

Or:

Little-Minded Britain

The flags are out in Downing Street to show that we’re the best

The Buller Buller Bullies take it all, and sod the rest

The greedy ones unmasked in the corridors of power

Still claim they’re just like us, in their apartments and their towers

Please don’t make me live in Little Britain

With the bullies and the liars without shame

I don’t want to end my days with those who say that it’s OK

To spit on anyone who’s not like them

Thames House is taking tea, and so is Vauxhall Cross

With the traitors and the ones who pull their strings

The oligarchs still thrive, money still has the last word

Whichever way the pendulum swings

Don’t make me live in Little-Minded Britain

Where the racists pose as patriots and devils pose as saints

Please don’t let me die in Little Britain

Among the hopeless victims of the rage that knows no shame

Don’t make me live in Little-minded Britain

Albion still perfidious is no safe place to be

Please don’t let me die in Little Britain

This is no place to meet eternity