20​-​20

by Rudebeard

/

about

As the most miserable year in modern history moves toward its unlamented end we decided to turn our idle hands to crafting a jolly Christmas tune to lift the spirits.
We failed miserably in our spirit-lifting objective but feel we have perhaps mined the true essence of 2020 in all its pox-ridden, power-grabbing, isolationist glory.

lyrics

Do you remember how it used to be
when twenty-twenty used to mean
a score for seeing perfectly?
Hey, hey.
But now it’s just a cluster ruck.
The whole damn world’s locked down and up.
We’re stuck between the plague
and Boris J.

and I can’t tell which one is worse.
I think I’d save the virus first
if it meant that lump of gammon fat
was gone
I’ve dug a ditch for him to die in
as in life forever lying.
I only wish that I could kill him
with this song.

This year’s been tough and very long.
It’s hard to tell what’s right or wrong.
The news feels like a smokescreen
for the crowd.
Now here’s rotten John turned out to be
a wee fat ginger Morrissey
trumpeting his own trumpet
thick and loud,

just a butter-fattened irritant
with fantasies of relevance
mouthing off
on national TV.
But never mind the hyper-bollocks John:
y’havenae penned one single song
worth listening to
since ’93.

England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.

But the backdrop as I write to you
is stars and stripes red white and blue,
a fight between two gammonites
to see
which old white men will win the vote:
the corporate show of porcine Joe
or orange Donald’s
mafiocracy.

It’s been a long time coming
but that change still hasnae come.
Obama didn’t change nothing
in eight years.
The world is still a trough of swill
for pigs who’ll never get their fill.
For the rest it’s struggle,
misery and tears.

And England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.
England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.

Do you remember how it used to be
when twenty-twenty used to mean
a score for seeing perfectly?
Hey, hey.
But now it means fear and confusion,
manufactured mass-delusion
and we’re all getting blinder
every day,

staring at the internet
that’s staring back at you,
taking notes just like the Stasi
for the man.
It knows your fears and vanities,
your masturbation fantasies
and how to play you with them
till you’re damned

and England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.
England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.
England’s dreaming of a white Christmas
flying the flag for thatch-headed racists.

Do you remember how it used to be
when twenty-twenty used to mean
a score for seeing perfectly?
Do you remember how it used to be
when twenty-twenty used to mean
a score for seeing perfectly?

Hey, hey, hey.

credits

released December 11, 2020
Written and arranged by Graeme Mearns

Video by Adam the drummer
Man in the Plague Doctor's mask - nobody knows...

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all rights reserved

tags

about

Rudebeard Scotland, UK

Formed at the end of 2018, Rudebeard specialise in energetic, sweaty, sweary, usually loud & occasionally thoughtful ska- punk, fast ska, slow ska, ska that’s not really ska and one attempted Scottish fitba anthem cos why no?

Two years, five EPs & one pandemic later we have accrued a back catalogue larger than you should reasonably expect & we herein present it to you for your aural delectation.
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