Now that Dubya has now been exiled to a page of his own, and because Blair has gone off to make even more money, I've changed some of the Pinko Songs. I've kept the twenty-first century version of the socialist anthem. I have called this Y BLODYN PINC. The Welsh is a literal, or near-literal, translation of the symbol of NEW Labour. If you think it's something for which I shouldn't have written new words, well, tough. But Jim Connell himself wrote new words to an old German Christmas Carol, Tannenbaum. This means 'The Fir Tree'. By clicking here you can hear a fine rendition of The Red Flag, or if you want to learn more, I'd recommend that you visit the Helena Sheehan's excellent page on an Irish site. My 21st century version appeared in an issue of the Red Poets magazine and was 'sung' by myself and Chris Williams at the Dylan Thomas Centre in Swansea..
The other entries are CONDOLEEZZA (do you still remember who she was?) and TWENTY-NINE IS HERE AGAIN, a celebration of our joyful global economic situation.
Y BLODYN PINC
Previously in Red Poets
To TANNENBAUM Our symbol now is palest pink, So work like slaves and don't ask why, [Chorus] Look round, the Tory loves to gaze, It waves above from some great height, So let's forget the triumphs past, Now let us join the weak and base, So kneel we down and swear we all, CONDOLEEZZA
To CLEMENTINE In the White House, not a shite house, Condoleezza! Condoleezza! [CHORUS] Bright she is and some say lairy Makes she dealings for the prater She and Bushie are so pushy How they've trussed her; how they've bust her;
TWENTY-NINE IS HERE AGAIN
To HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN (Italicised verses)
Previously in Red Poets Tune
Gordon lets money fall from his hands; Twenty-nine is here again; Bankers sit in bunkers; Twenty-nine is here again; Stop-go; bubbles; testerone; Twenty-nine is here again; Bells and Whistles
Tune
This song should make you stop and think.
Jim Connell's one is growing old,
It's time to sing of purest gold.
The money god we'll deify.
Though theorists preach and lefties jeer,
We'll keep the pink rose growing here.
The stock exchange now sings its praise,
In money's vaults its hymns are sung;
Accountants swell the surging throng.
You know this perfumed flower's right
To slay the movement's sacred cow,
We're sure to change their colours now.
And bury brotherhood at last
The coins are bright, the symbol plain,
For money's right and money's gain.
And merge with them in their good race
To become the rich man's clown,
One day we think we'll wear his crown.
The Stock Exchange shall hear our call;
And though I know you think we're dim,
This song shall be our parting hymn.
Tune
now advising mighty fine,
dwells a lady somewhat shady,
keeping war-folks on the line.
Where'd you get that funny name?
It doesn't sound so Alabammie.
You've really put them all to shame.
and at Stanford she did shine:
now she foxes paradoxes
at the White House all the time.
who to facts she can't confine.
It's too late for an educator
'cos the truth they'll undermine.
spelling dee-fence with an 'O'.
Send in Cruisies: Whoosshie! Whoosshie!
Then we'll watch the GIs go.
how they've used her mighty fine.
And when the juster all distrust her
they'll soon forget her in decline.
Davey sits on his hands;
Nick Click wrings his hands.
Very handy, these politicians.
see flat caps in their march 'cross your TV screen.
Don't you know it's the way things have always been?
Twenty-nine is here again!
financiers finance themselves;
market-men go downmarket.
I thought they were supposed to jump out of windows?
see the sharks do their dance till they're lean and mean.
Don't you know it's the way things have always been?
Twenty-nine is here again!
downturn; recession;
depression; slump.
You might think of other words.
boom or bust is the chance of the cash machine.
Don't you know it's the way things have always been?
Twenty-nine is here again!
Interactive Caption
Russmo on the Visual Arts section
The Red Flag
'W' is for Dubya
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