Sir Keir is 'appalled' by soft sentencing, proving that even a former Director of Public Prosecutions can find the justice system a bit of a letdown when it matters. Meanwhile, the Defence Secretary’s GPS was jammed by the Russians—a stark reminder that while we can't get a train to run on time, our adversaries can certainly stop a plane from finding its way. Still, at least nationalised railways are finally delivering air-conditioned carriages, giving Brits a comfortable place to sit while they procrastinate buying a kitchen timer to fix their lives.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Intro]
[Heavily stomping drum beat with crowd stomping and clapping]
[Hammond organ swells with Mellotron strings]
[Verse 1]
The Prime Minister's pounding his fist on the desk
At a judge who showed mercy to boys past arrest
Two rapists walk free while the nation looks on
At a justice that's broken before it's begun
And somewhere near Russia with nothing to say
The Defence Secretary's jet lost its signal today
The pilots flew blind through the cold and the dark
While we argue about who is lighting the spark
[Pre-Chorus]
The signal is jammed
The message is scrambled
We're flying on instinct tonight
[Chorus]
[Stadium anthemic harmonies]
Oh, it's the sweet smell of decay
Coming from Westminster every single day
They talk about progress, they talk about change
While the whole bloody system is looking deranged
With a Union Jack wrapped round a bureaucratic lie
Everything's failing but the flag's flying high
Yes it's the sweet, sweet smell of decay
[Breakdown]
[Reverb-soaked vocals over sparse drums]
[Verse 2]
An EasyJet pilot diverted to Rome
While a fire-risk power bank threatened our home
In Lincoln a body pulled out of the lake
A fifteen-year-old boy for humanity's sake
The Education Secretary's waking the watchdog
To tackle the costs that are milking the cash cow
But the parents are drowning in fees and in forms
While the government wrestles with previous norms
[Pre-Chorus]
The signal is jammed
The message is scrambled
We're flying on instinct tonight
[Chorus]
[Full band returns with soaring harmonies]
Oh, it's the sweet smell of decay
Coming from Westminster every single day
They talk about progress, they talk about change
While the whole bloody system is looking deranged
With a Union Jack wrapped round a bureaucratic lie
Everything's failing but the flag's flying high
Yes it's the sweet, sweet smell of decay
[Guitar Solo]
[Overdriven fuzz guitar with ascending chromatic bass runs]
[Mellotron strings swell dramatically]
[Bridge]
They nationalised trains with a fanfare and flash
New Union Jack carriages ready to crash
The passengers wait on a platform of doubt
Wondering if reliability will ever work out
In Worcestershire politics, Shakespearean farce
A rainbow coalition has kicked Reform's arse
The perimenopause myths keep spreading their lies
While Olivia Dean sings beneath fading skies
[Spoken]
Set your kitchen timer... and watch it all burn
[Chorus]
[Crowd stomping and clapping builds]
Oh, it's the sweet smell of decay
Coming from Westminster every single day
They talk about progress, they talk about change
While the whole bloody system is looking deranged
With a Union Jack wrapped round a bureaucratic lie
Everything's failing but the flag's flying high
Yes it's the sweet, sweet smell of decay
[Outro]
[Shout]
The sweet smell of decay!
[Call and response with crowd]
It's fading away!
The sweet smell of decay!
[Hammond organ and fuzz guitar fade with rhythmic stomping]
[Spoken]
Just set your timer... and pretend it's okay