Ofcom has bravely deduced that feeding children an unmoderated diet of algorithmic sludge might be ‘unsafe’, whilst TikTok expressed disappointment that their dazzling array of cosmetic safety filters wasn't enough to distract the regulator from the digital dystopia they've engineered. Rachel Reeves is slicing VAT on theme parks to help families afford the simple joy of overpriced burgers, while Wes Streeting rehearses a ‘wealth tax that works’, presumably one that actually extracts coin from the rich rather than just making them clink their champagne flutes in nervous solidarity. Pensioners remain the nation's untouchable sacred cows, safe from welfare cuts and trapped in £20k service-charge prisons, while former world leaders play make-believe pandemics in Kenya—a touching display of competence we can only pray works better than the average Saturday night at the local cinema, now a teen-free zone due to seat-shredding hooliganism.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Intro]
[Wall of reverberating guitar feedback builds slowly]
[Synthesiser drone fades in]
[Verse 1]
They tell us that the feeds are unsafe for a child
The algorithms poison, the servers run wild
With corporate outrage, they claim it's not fair
Like a waiter told soup is too cold to bear
And down at the Treasury, counting the cost
A cheap day at theme parks to cover the lost
[Chorus]
We're drowning in sunshine, we're catching the spray
V.A.T. cuts for the holidays
The river runs dirty, we drink anyway
Beautiful ruin, come what may
[Verse 2]
The pensioners trapped in the flats that won't sell
Twenty thousand in charges, a concrete hell
They vote in the morning, they hold every key
The young are just ghosts in a world they can't see
And Wes sells a promise of something brand new
While the I.M.F. screams that the spending is through
[Chorus]
We're drowning in sunshine, we're catching the spray
V.A.T. cuts for the holidays
The river runs dirty, we drink anyway
Beautiful ruin, come what may
[Bridge]
[Tempo slows]
[Guitar feedback swells]
The Elders pretend that the virus is here
A beautiful game for the end of the year
And Welsh cinemas guard every velvet parade
While towers stand empty, the promises fade
[Guitar Solo]
[Fender Jaguar with heavy reverb and tremolo]
[Sustained notes dissolve into feedback]
[Verse 3]
Walkers are sick from the streams that they drink
The hospital lights are the only thing pink
A nation of follies, of boarded-up glass
Waiting for something that never will pass
[Outro]
[Synthesiser pad swells]
V.A.T. cuts for the holidays
We're catching the spray
[Feedback fades to drone]
Beautiful ruin...
[Decay]