Suggested by Milke Parr, and so appropriate as a description of the goal of social neoliberalism:
Little boxes on the hillsideLittle boxes made of ticky-tackyLittle boxesLittle boxesLittle boxes all the same
There's a green one and a pink oneAnd a blue one and a yellow oneAnd they're all made out of ticky-tackyAnd they all look just the same
And the people in the houses all go to the universityAnd they all get put in boxes, little boxes all the sameAnd there's doctors and there's lawyersAnd business executives
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky and they all look just the same
And they all play on the golf course and drink their martini dryAnd they all have pretty children and the children go to schoolAnd the children go to summer campAnd then to the university
And they all get put in boxes, and they all come out the sameAnd the boys go into business and marry and raise a family
And they all get put in boxes, little boxes all the sameThere's a green one, and a pink oneAnd a blue one and a yellow oneAnd they're all made out of ticky-tackyAnd they all look just the same
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thank you – 1964 — takes me back a while – a fellow ‘Articled Clerk’ was a very good pianist, but had no piano, so came to ‘our house’ and played my piano, and we sung and were content. Many of the ‘little boxes’ were replacing the bomb sites and the post-war ‘prefabs’ – life was quite simple – we had aspirations, but not really for material ‘worldly’ things – we were the first generation to have more freedom, we did not travel far, few cars, no mobile phones, black & white TV if you were lucky, no social media – rationing was a thing of the past – so, what if ‘Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of ticky-tacky, Little boxes, Little boxes, Little boxes all the same’ – we were happy, we had work, we had space to live, and we were carefree. Most of all, we cared.
Thanks 🙂
Whilst idling time away during Covid I re-imagined these lyrics in a present day context.
Politicians in the Commons,
Politicians at a work event.
Politicians, politicians,
And they all sound the same.
There’s a green one, and some red ones,
Lots of blue ones, a few yellow ones.
And they all make us promises,
And they all sound just the same.
The moguls who own the media,
Keep politicians in their pockets,
And manipulate their policies,
It’s the nature of their game.
And if any dare defy them,
They spread lies and smear them,
And the people believe them,
So it all stays just the same.
And the people of the country,
Get to vote in the election.
Put their crosses in boxes,
Little boxes all the same.
And they vote for lower taxes,
Then they get poorer services.
Put their crosses in boxes,
So it all stays just the same.
Candidates make us promises,
So we will tick their boxes,
And then they don’t keep them,
So it all stays the same.
For the Tories, and the LibDems,
The Greens, and the Labourites.
Politicians, politicians,
And they all sound just the same.
Politicians on green benches,
Politicians on expenses.
We put crosses in their boxes,
So it all stays the same.
Little boxes on a ballot,
Promises made of ticky-tacky.
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes all the same.
I like it!
Excellent. I wish the time I spend idling away was so productive. Thanks, you’ve inspired me to learn this on guitar.