British Bombs by Declan McKenna Lyrics Meaning – Unpacking the Anti-War Anthem

You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for Declan Mckenna's British Bombs at Lyrics.org.

Lyrics

Great snakes, are we movin’ already?
Good gravy, did you say it cost a penny or two for you?
We’re talking ’bout the bad starts
My baby brother has already got a gas mask
‘Cause it’s a good old-fashioned landslide
Killing with your hands tied
In the homemade rope, set sail
Babe, we read it in The Mail, no hope now

Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s good what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen

Why does it seem
A fever dream for all?
The call you made to me
You said I’ll feel
One day each year, a worry
We shall remember the dead
And we’ll remember the dead so they know that we’re sorry
But then carry on

Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen
Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen

How could it be the money? It’s the vote that matters to me
You say you’re hungry, but you won’t eat the caraway seed
Doesn’t matter in the wreckage, what should you say?
Well, I found myself a little peckish last Tuesday
This is what you signed up for, no questions
Reckon we could offer peace, damn the weapons conventions
Well, it’s on the table, but it’s no good
Can’t you hear? All our worries for fear, carry on

Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen
Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen

It’s a good old-fashioned landslide
Killing with your hands tied
In the homemade rope, set sail
Babe, we read it in The Mail, no hope now
And it’s a total fucking whitewash
The people that we might squash
And move from home soil, set sail
For wherever the fuck got oil this time
And if it’s not a fucking war crime
It’s a total waste of your time
And getting so much worse
Get real, kid, your country’s been at war since birth now
And if it’s not a fucking outrage, what’s it all about then?
Now, it’s one on one
Great Britain’s gonna tell you where it all went wrong and then carry on

Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen
Great way to fool me again, hun’
Great acting, it’s great what you tell ’em
Great Britain won’t stand for felons
Great British bombs in the Yemen

Declan McKenna, a youthful troubadour with a penchant for social commentary, rockets us into a charged expanse of indie rock with his track ‘British Bombs’. McKenna weaves a narrative that is both disarming and wrenching, casting an unflinching eye on the horrors of modern conflict. The song’s deceptively catchy tune belies its grave subject matter—the United Kingdom’s involvement in foreign wars and the resulting humanitarian crises.

Though the beat might incite a foot tap or two, ‘British Bombs’ is far from light-hearted fare. As McKenna sings of gas masks, homemade ropes, and the deafening silence of the dead, listeners are confronted with a visceral representation of war’s true cost. This is protest music evolved for the modern ear, and it begs for a deeper dive.

The Veiled Scepter of Humanitarianism: Interpreting McKenna’s Prose

McKenna’s verse is cunningly draped in irony when he speaks of ‘great acting’ and the UK ‘not standing for felons’ while simultaneously ‘dropping bombs in the Yemen’. The stark contrast between self-professed moral standing and actions speaks volumes on hypocrisy in international politics. His lyrics hint at the facade of altruism often used to justify acts of war under the guise of bringing peace or stability to regions in conflict.

Yet, these grand justifications crumble under scrutiny, particularly through the lens of the everyday citizens whom these wars ostensibly aim to protect. The lyric ‘my baby brother has already got a gas mask’ hits home with a chilling reminder of the human lives—especially the vulnerable—caught in the crossfire of political machinations.

A Nation ‘At War Since Birth’: The Historical Continuum of Conflict

McKenna doesn’t just limit his critique to the present; he deftly extends his dissection to the historical context of British colonialism and imperialism. ‘Your country’s been at war since birth,’ he sings, implicating a long-standing tradition of violence that has been woven into the very fabric of the nation’s identity. It’s a sobering reflection on how the past shapes the present and seemingly dictates a belligerent future.

‘Get real, kid,’ he advises, prodding the listener to awaken to the sanitized version of history that often glosses over the ugly truths of conquest and subjugation.

The Jarring Juxtaposition: War-Torn Realities Versus Everyday Apathy

Among the song’s most poignant aspects is the juxtaposition of war’s harrowing images against the backdrop of everyday normalcy. The nonchalant ‘I found myself a little peckish last Tuesday’ amidst talks of wreckage and disaster is a stark reminder of the disparity between those living through conflict and those who experience it as mere headlines.

Whilst people suffer and die in far-off lands, life continues unabated and undisturbed for others, pointing to a broader conversation about global interconnectedness and the selective attentiveness to international suffering.

Unearthing the Hidden Meaning: The Song’s Caustic Satire

Beneath the veneer of McKenna’s melodic chorus lies a seething critique of sensationalist media and the superficial treatment of war. The reference to reading about the landslide in ‘The Mail’ alludes to the reduction of tragedy to digestible, often trivialized news items. The deliberate use of colloquial language, such as ‘Good gravy’ and ‘Great snakes,’ undercuts the seriousness of the topic, highlighting the bizarre normalization of geopolitical violence.

The repeated invocation ‘Great way to fool me again, hun” may echo the cyclical nature of these narratives—how society repeatedly falls for the same polished narratives that justify interventionism and the ensuing atrocities.

Memorable Lines That Echo In the Collective Consciousness

Certain lyrics in ‘British Bombs’ resonate long after the music fades. Phrases like ‘It’s a good old-fashioned landslide / Killing with your hands tied’ and ‘It’s a total fucking whitewash / The people that we might squash’ are particularly hard-hitting. They capture the essence of the song—a fiery indictment of callous disregard for human life, corruption, and the whitewashing of crimes through the filter of patriotic duty.

McKenna’s song is more than just a piece of music; it’s a generational call to arms, urging listeners to question, to not complacently accept realities spun by the powerful. It is a poignant reminder that when it comes to war, the ultimate casualties are truth and humanity.