Britain’s roads have become a gladiatorial arena where pedestrians serve as speed bumps for BMWs and electric motorbikes, proving once again that the internal combustion engine is the true weapon of choice for the morally bankrupt. In brighter news, the government is throwing £20,000 at trainee teachers to compensate for dealing with feral youth, and a jilted bride monetised her heartbreak with the kind of stoic resolve that makes you wonder if love was ever the point. Jeremy Clarkson, meanwhile, finally tasted the organic reality of farming—cow muck and all—reminding us that nature usually wins in the end.
Police crack down on fatal road racing incidents
Teacher training incentives boosted to twenty thousand
Jeremy Clarkson threatens to quit farming show
Sultry Northern Sultry-Soul
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Verse 1]
Rain on the windscreen, wipers keeping time
Another brother races, another perfect crime
In the X-three Beamer, with the engine hot
They left a rugby coach to die in a parking spot
And young Rhys Jenkins never saw the finish line
Just a flash of metal and a taste of bitter wine
While Jordan Willetts flees the scene on electric wheels
A hit-and-run disaster, baby, that's just how it feels
[Chorus]
It's heavy metal, rolling through the town
It's heavy metal, dragging us all down
No conscience in the chassis, no patience in the drive
Just another body struggling to survive
Yeah, it's heavy metal
[Verse 2]
The courts are busy counting up the cost of sin
Joshua Camplin tried to let the devil in
And Ryan Lidfield got an extended stay
For stealing innocence and throwing it away
But spare a thought for Kayley with her wedding dress
Turned a jilting into justified success
Twelve grand down the drain or a brand new start
A solo branding exercise to warm the cynical heart
[Bridge]
Now the government is paying twenty thousand pounds
To anyone who wants to stand on hallowed grounds
Shortage subjects need a hazard pay bonus
To face the little monsters and the COVID oceans
And old Jeremy Clarkson on the Diddly Squat farm
Got a mouthful of manure, a mouthful of alarm
A literal taste of his own medicine, so they say
A fittingly grotesque end to a perfect day
[Chorus]
It's heavy metal, rolling through the town
It's heavy metal, dragging us all down
No conscience in the chassis, no patience in the drive
Just another body struggling to survive
Yeah, it's heavy metal
[Outro]
Just heavy metal, baby
Rolling down the road
Heavy metal
And the cow got the last laugh
Yeah, the cow got the last laugh