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Chelsea’s only memory of meeting her grandfather
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Was Christmas ‘91 at a pub in Denby Dale
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Going through the motions of an early family trip,
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distracted by her Gameboy chewing on her bottom lip
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She couldn’t comprehend the nature of their stay
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And in his youth he’d been formidable,
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but the sickness left him skeletal and frail.
As the grown-ups buried hatchets and did their best to make their peace
Chelsea was oblivious, blissfully at ease
Until the old man started ranting about LaMont and Hesseltine
And as the fire in his belly rose, it captured her attention for the first and only time
And he looked at her, and he gave her some advice
And it stuck with her, it was simple and precise.
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He told her “Never trust a tory, they’ll betray you when it matters
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They will scramble to the top and then they’ll kick away the ladder, hinny
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Never trust a tory, or a tory in disguise,
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You can see it when you look them in the eye”
It’s been over twenty years since they put him in the ground
He died on Christmas day and looking back it’s really quite profound
How those words have stuck with her, how they’ve influenced her life
How they trace a track of lineage; a genealogy implied
And she knows it’s kind of cynical and tribal to think along those lines
But time and time again she’s seen the old fella proven right.
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“Never trust a tory, they’ll betray you when it matters
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They will scramble to the top and then they’ll kick away the ladder,
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Never trust a tory, or a tory in disguise,
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Yeah you can see it when you look them in the eye
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So just make sure you look the bastard in the eye
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