**Verse 1** I said **cunt** in Canada and somebody rang the news, Back in Britain Gaz just shouted it while tying up his shoes. A goose attacked a traffic cone, a bus drove through a puddle, And somehow by half nine the whole damn country was in trouble. The kettle blew a fuse, the train was forty minutes late, A bloke called Steve blamed Europe while complaining at the gate. Someone skipped the queue in Tesco—now the nation’s seeing red, And a woman in the frozen aisle just muttered, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Fred.” **BREAKING NEWS** “This is the BBC. We interrupt normal programming because someone has used a naughty word near a Greggs.” Authorities are asking the public to remain calm. The public has refused. **Chorus** You can say **cunt** here, But now the geese are getting mad, One stole a packet of crisps And chased a bloke called Brad. Same word, same island, Different level of despair, One bloke laughed into his pint, One wrote to the bloody mayor. You can say **cunt** here, Then all hell breaks loose, Someone blames the weather, Someone gets attacked by a goose. Raise your tea, guard your chips, And don’t you dare skip the queue, Because Britain’s held together By sarcasm, biscuits, and complaining too. **Verse 2** A corgi stole a sausage roll and vanished down the street, Three pensioners gave chase in slippers shouting, “Oi, you little cheat!” Someone swore the Queen’s old corgis had organised the raid, Then a tabloid ran the headline: **ROYAL DOGS HAVE GONE ROGUE — NATION BETRAYED.** The Met said, “No comment,” The pub said, “Another round,” A bloke in Crocs and football shorts was lying on the ground. Not injured, just dramatic—he’d dropped his sausage bap, Then blamed the council, potholes, tax, and “some absolute twat.” **Fake News Bulletin** “Good evening. Britain remains under severe threat from: one angry goose, two escaped corgis, a broken kettle, and a man named Darren who has started shouting outside a Wetherspoons.” **Pre-Chorus** We say “not ideal” when the roof has blown away, “Bit nippy” when the frostbite starts to stay. We say “interesting” when your idea is complete shite, And “With all due respect” means you’re about to lose the fight. **Chorus** You can say **cunt** here, But mind the local vibe, One nan will slap your wrist, Another says it louder with pride. Same word, same weather, Same grey miserable sky, One bloke says “cheers, cunt” And somehow that means “good guy.” You can say **cunt** here, But don’t mess with the queue, Swear all day if you fancy, Just don’t push in front of Sue. Take my pint, cancel my train, Make my Wi-Fi slow— But skip me at the checkout And now we’ve got a proper show. **Rap Break** Breaking news— Goose on the run. Stole three chips, Threatened everyone. Corgi sighted Near platform three, Dragging a sausage And a cup of tea. Train cancelled. Reason unclear. Replacement bus Won’t appear. Someone shouted, “Typical, mate.” National mood: Mildly irate. Kettle broken— Emergency call. Neighbour’s drilling Through the wall. Dave said “bollocks.” Nan said “twat.” Someone nicked Gaz’s favourite hat. Pub quiz cancelled. Panic spreads. Someone’s launched A chair at Spoons instead. BBC reporter Looks dead inside: “We can confirm the goose has learned to drive.” **Bridge** Then came the corgis, Tiny paws of doom, Charging through Parliament Like they owned the bloody room. One nicked a sandwich, One stole someone’s tie, One sat on a minister’s papers And stared directly into the camera like: “Try me.” The country fell silent. Then somebody at the back yelled: “GOOD DOG.” **Cartoon Breakdown** **EMERGENCY BRITISH ALERT** Remain indoors. Secure all biscuits. Hide all sausage rolls. Do not make eye contact with geese. If approached by a rogue corgi, throw cheese in the opposite direction and retreat slowly. If someone skips the queue: There is no official guidance. God help them. **Final Chorus** You can say **cunt** here, But Britain’s already gone insane, The buses are late, The geese are armed, And it’s started bloody raining again. The corgis own Westminster, The pubs have taken command, Someone made a cuppa While the country went unmanned. So raise your mug, Protect your chips, And shout above the view: “Could be worse!” As Parliament explodes, The goose steals your wallet, The train gets cancelled, The corgi runs off with your dinner— And some cunt still skips the queue.
