Referendum Requiem

We’ve won the vote hip, hip, hooray, the English people have had their say,

It’s goodbye to Johnny foreigner while we keep the immigrants at bay.

A brave new world emerging, a return to the red, white and blue,

With spitfires over the white cliffs of Dover, cricket and Union Jacks too.

We’re going back to the values we cherish, we’re taking our Great Britain back,

Who cares if the economy falters, in Brexit we’re too old to sack.


We’re closing the gates to the country, stopping the flood of unwashed,

The lazy, corrupt and unwanted, their asylum requests all now are quashed.

We only want shiny white faces, with English as their native tongue,

Our towns will be quaint little villages, a land where Jerusalem’s sung.

We don’t know which ones are the trouble, so let’s give them all the big E,

Goodbye to the migrant, good riddance free movement, find somewhere else refugee.


Brick up the Chunnel, man all fences and we’ll keep the terrorists out,

Monitor movement, regard with suspicion, that’s what our freedom’s about.

But wait, they’re still coming, I see them, jetting in on an EasyJet flight,

Let’s scan them and watch them and track them, we must keep security tight.

How can we stop them from coming, I still see them walking around,

The politicians will need to do something, we won’t rest until they’re all found.


Deportation, surveillance and visas, strip searches, tagging and tests,

Stop every dark face and frisk them, check them for suicide vests.

And when they’re all gone,

And the good work is done,

We will walk through our streets free from fear,

And then we can shift all our focus, and deal with the ones who are queer.


Yes, the commies, the lefties, do-gooders, the wierdos, the godless and bent,

We’ll root them all out from the shadows, on their sordid ways we’ll now vent.

We’re cleaning the streets for the children, whether they want it or not,

We’re building a vision of heaven by smashing the great melting pot.

And then we’ll get rid of the homeless, they’re dirty, untidy and rough,

I’m sick of them littering the pavement, I think we’ve all now had enough.


We’re on a crusade for the Christians, we’re fixing the country for us,

Cream teas for all, on this sceptred isle, and a ride on a red London bus.

Equality for all, but especially me,

Doing what we say, is our kind of free.

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité are gone, enough of their cheap foreign muck,

Supervision, Suspicion, Division, our new motto, now can be struck.


Farewell to England’s dreaming, farewell to welcome, warm hearth,

The people have spoken, we’re harrying the country, implementing our own self-scorched earth.

The brave and heroic of olden, Chaucer, Churchill and Jenner,

Will bury their heads and turn in their beds, as we cave in to fear and false terror.

Once great as a beacon of freedom, renown for our manners and hope,

Let’s sell off our cultural silver for bunting, banners, and old rope.

Chris Hughes 2016


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