Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos’ turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
At the bottom of my garden
There’s a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
In Hawaii they Hula
They Tango in Argentina
They Reggae in Jamaica
And they Rumba down in Cuba,
Mirror mirror on the wall
Could you please return
Our football went through your crack
You have two now
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
The coconuts have got the jobs.
The race industry is a growth industry.
We despairing, they careering.
We want more peace they want more police.
I waz whitemailed
By a white witch,
Wid white magic
An white lies,
I used to think nurses
I used to think police