Zero Hours Contracts…join the queue

Nine hundred and ten thousand at your beck and call
To come running when summoned and fill your shortfall
Nine hundred and ten thousand waiting for your horn to sound
For a chance at a grab at your phantomlike pound
Nine hundred and ten thousand waiting for your whistle to blow
To play in the game for a few hours or so
Nine hundred and ten thousand with a life put on hold
Standing in line like the dockers of old
Nine hundred and ten thousand with no peace of mind
On a merry-go-round of corporate design
Nine hundred and ten thousand just one text away
From the message that reads "No Work Today"

Copyright: Fishylyrics - March 2017


Meet Joe…

See the eyes, the lack of pride
The self-reproach felt deep inside
No welcome here, no gaze returned
Head bowed, glances spurned

See the smile, lips tight drawn
It tells a lie, the face is torn
It hides a soul too hard to own
A camouflage for truths beknown

See the shoulders stooped and bent
The weight so heavy it can't relent
A load long carried in the mind
No pause or respite can it find

Feel the stomach cramped and tight
Hands are cold, head is light
Last pickings fed to smaller jaws
Tonight much like the night before

He reaches in to memory
For answers to his misery
Recalls only wages earned and money spent
Bigger bills and higher rent

Feel the humiliation as he stands in line
Two years now since the very first time
He signs for his boxed up charity
And wonders how this came to be

This throwback to an age gone by
The daily battle to survive
Work's safe refuge turned on its head
Employment's safety net in shreds

Feel the confusion, feel the pain
Feel the anger rise again
What crimes or wrongs were committed here
To be served a punishment so severe

A sentence crafted by corporate pen
To impoverish the worker once again
To have him servile, keep him tame
Know his place and know his shame

To strip away his dignity
Exploit his vulnerability
And lay the blame at his own door
The fault all his for being poor

See an existence cruel to bear
See a future full of fear
Meet a life born out of another's plan
Meet a 21st century working man

Meet Joe...

Copyright: Fishylyrics - February 2017

Homelessness – the devil’s cocktail

The abused who from the abuser hides
Her nerves don't hold for long
She starts at every nascent sound
She has to keep moving on

The doorway sleeper beside his dog
One blanket torn and wet
His face now shows the crooked scar
From the boot that followed the threat

The child whose home is now a B&B
A cot his new playground
Mum's zero hours became zero pay
And the rent just couldn't be found

The veteran in his wooded tent
His mind bears long a stain
All night he roams for fear of sleep
And the dreams that bring the pain

The unloved teenage girl who runs
Into a world that may not care
Now choices of the street are hers
She learns too soon that life's unfair

Add the addict and the migrant
And poor souls yet to learn their destiny
See the devil's cocktail for the homeless
In our disunited Kingdom 2017 

Copyright: Fishylyrics January 2017



The 18th June Nineteen Eighty Four
A date that The State had been long planning for
Revenge on it's mind, heart filled with hate
No chance that Orgreave would be Saltley Gate

No diversions or road blocks for pickets that day
Just escorting of miners along their way
For those men their fate was already sealed
As the Bobbies led them down to the corn field

Battle lines drawn, plans hidden from sight
Horses and dogs to the left and the right
Five thousand Coppers armed up to the teeth
Community policing this wasn't to be

The order was given, mounted police charged
Then short shield units commenced the barrage
Blows rained down to the head and the back
As the pickets they fled from the brutal attack

The beatings were savage, injuries many
Broken limbs, gashes, bruises ten a penny
Policemen delivered what their masters had yearned
Expenses and overtime dutifully earned

That paragon of virtue, the BBC
Doctored the film that the public would see
Footage reversed, truth bent like a bow
Government and broadcaster had their ducks in a row

Shamefully, ninety five miners charged with riot and affray
Their crime it appeared was just running away
A potential life sentence for these men of coal
The state had bloodied body but still desired soul

Ninety five acquittals eventually served
Collusion and perjury exposed by lawyers
No officer prosecuted, nor yet disciplined
For the lies that were peddled about "the enemy within"

"The enemy within" who works deep underground
In the damp and the dark with no natural sound
Whom with each breath of dust reduce their life term
As in retirement they wait for the dreaded "e" word

And now a public inquiry denied by the Home Secretary
A stockbroker's daughter, a Cheltenham College lady
No need then for justice, no search then for truth
That's a privilege reserved for a more genteel group

A word for you Amber, it doesn't end so
Politicians will come and politicians will go
But working men and women no longer bend at the knee
The truth we will have it, whenever it be!

Copyright: Fishylyrics - November 2016

Trickle or Trick

For those not cognisant with "trickle down"
Please allow me to explain
It's a form of macro-economics
From which we're all supposed to gain

To spread the wealth around, it's told
When The Rich make their vast sums
We follow with our pan and brush
And sweep up all the crumbs

Or put another way, perhaps
So the theory goes
We all drink up the spillages
From the cup that overflows

Now I've been waiting patiently
For a nibble or a sip
But to be quite honest with you
I've seen neither morsel, nor seen drip

I'm no trained economist
No Smith, no Marx, no Keynes
But I can spot a mighty heist
With just a poor boy's brains

No trickle down, instead a mighty geyser spurts
It's riches hidden from our view
A volcanic spewing forth of wealth
To satisfy the greed of few

But let me offer a word of warning
To you beneficiaries of the scam
The game doesn't last for ever
Enjoy your exploits while you can

For come the day of reckoning
The world, it turns around
King is pawn and pawn is king
When the walls come tumbling down

When we come, we'll come in numbers
When we come we'll come with strength
We'll come with jurisdiction
We'll come with clear conscience

When we come, we won't be asking
No polite requests, no subservience
Repossession, fair and just
No deals, no recompense

Copyright: Fishylyrics - November 2016

White hats, black hearts

The Marshal was rockin' in the chair
When his deputy arrived
Somethin' was playing on the deputy's mind
His eyes they couldn't lie

The boys, they're askin' questions
Said the deputy with a sigh
How come he's still alive
You know it don't look right

Boy's 'ud sure like to take him down
You only gotta give the word
They're feelin' kinda all riled up
From the stories that they heard

They reckon he's meaner than The Kid
An' Wesley Harding too
He's been runnin' with the James gang
The boys they swear it's true

Folks say he's got a real bad place
Right in the main town square
They tell there's hands an' feet
An' such scattered ever'where

Been told he's cruel to womenfolk
Don't treat 'em like he oughta
Don't let 'em dance or sing or nuthin'
Won't give 'em any quarter

You know, we' been huntin' down your outlaws
In towns where folks didn't seem to pay a mind
How come this real bad hombre
Has lasted all this time?

The boys, they tracked on down The Butcher
Got The Colonel on the run
Let 'em saddle up, head east again
An' end this lousy, lowdown sonofa gun

The Marshal looked up from his desk
Fixed the deputy with a stare
Rose real slow to his feet
While kickin' back his chair

You tell the boys to pipe on down
It ain't their job to think
You take 'em down to Sally's place
An' fix 'em up a drink

Remember this, you listen good
An' keep it kept inside
There's them that is an' them that ain't
An' them that do decide

It don't count if he's bad as bad
Or white as driven snow
The only thing that matters
Is if he's friend.....or foe

Copyright:  Fishylyrics - November 2016