As the nation swelters under a bank holiday heatwave, desperately swapping doomscrolling for Duolingo whilst queuing at Dover, our illustrious institutions continue their masterclass in negligence. The Attorney General has finally noticed that letting teenage rapists walk free might be slightly controversial, while Thames Valley Police have heroically decided to investigate Prince Andrew—only a mere decade after officers stood guard outside his dodgy associates' homes. Deep beneath Charing Cross, our military prepares for Russian tanks with an armoury missing 90% of its drones, which sits rather comfortably alongside 28 illegal waste 'super sites' piling up across the countryside. Frankly, between the legal system's moral bankruptcy and the armed forces' logistical vacuum, it seems the only thing we're successfully stockpiling is rubbish and regret.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Verse 1]
Twenty-eight degrees on a British street
Sweating in the queue with aching feet
Dover's baking in the bank holiday sun
But the real heat's only just begun
Three young boys walk away scot-free
While their victims count the cost, you see
The Attorney General wrings his hands
While justice slips through fingers like sand
[Chorus]
The best time was yesterday, my friend
Before the chequebooks signed the end
The second-best time is now, they claim
But don't that just sound like the same old game
Yeah, the best time was yesterday
[Verse 2]
Thames Valley boys are making their stand
With a notepad poised in a well-timed hand
"Come forward now," the coppers say
"We'd like a word, if you've got all day"
But they drove him round to the clubs at night
Could've asked him then, but I guess that's right
Virginia's number on a check request
Now there's twelve million gone from the family nest
[Chorus]
The best time was yesterday, my friend
Before the chequebooks signed the end
The second-best time is now, they claim
But don't that just sound like the same old game
Yeah, the best time was yesterday
[Bridge]
Down in the bunker under Charing Cross
Soldiers play at counting the cost
War games for a Russian threat
With ninety percent of their drones not met
Twenty thousand tonnes of illegal trash
And the Environment Agency counts the stash
Southport's daughters, lost in the text
Anonymity's veil keeps them hexed
[Verse 3]
Stephen's leaving the late-night chair
The network's cosy, if you catch the air
Scientists race for a vaccine's grace
While we stare for seven hours at a glowing face
Duolingo won't save your soul
When the screen's in charge and you've lost control
Yeah, Duolingo won't save your soul
When the screen's in charge and you've lost control
[Outro]
The best time was yesterday
Could've asked him then, but hey
That's the British way
That's the British way
[Spoken] Yeah, the cheque cleared just fine
[Fade out on hollow-body guitar]