If you see an adult with a metal detector, you know that something’s wrong.
If you see a fat bloke guard a statue, you know it won’t be long
Before we’re conjured up for the angry throng

We’re The Woke Mob, apparently, the cause of all your problems.
We don’t have chants or banners, we just hum fey indie anthems.
Tabloids tell you Be Afraid if we’re in your vicinity
Battering police with leaflets on Toxic Masculinity

We’re The Woke Mob, apparently, my mate just called me a TERF
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but I think I kept my nerve.
Right-wingers blame us all the time for weakness and sedition
But we couldn’t run a raffle, let alone a revolution

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently.

Gammons on our facebook say we threaten their right to speak
Though they say it all day, every day for nineteen days a week.
They spout the same blind slogans, even though they’re thick as Bisto
In the quaint belief we’re sent to war by Bernadine Evaristo.

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently, made up mainly of teachers
Veggies, writers, feminists and Church of England vicars,
artists, singers, actors and folk who want to save the planet,
frightening the crap out of fat blokes in Thanet.

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently,

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently, we stick in Rees-Mogg’s craw;
We’re the decadent aliens with that red Volvo next door
Apparently, we’re everywhere, a threat to Western values
When we’re not upsetting Lawrence Fox or toppling slavers’ statues

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently, beloved of right wing vultures.
They peck the bones of half-truths, bleating on about Cancel Culture.
They’re light on examples but heavy on the bile.
Don’t mention inequality or they’ll scream and run a mile

From the Woke Mob, apparently.

Toby Young on Twitter, bless him, isn’t in any doubt;
Inclusivity makes him feel left out.
He thinks we should be silenced in the name of free speech
But we’re deadly as the donkey rides on Scarborough’s North Beach.

We’re the Woke Mob, apparently, because we hate injustice.
I’m not sure quite what’s wrong with that; maybe ask George Eustice.
We’re armed with chants and milkshakes, while they’ve got clubs and guns
It’s always us that ends up killed, but they swear we’re the deadly ones.
We’re the Woke Mob , apparently