One Law for Everyone was inspired by a 76-year-old pensioner who managed to turn a burqa into something considerably more troublesome than a fashion statement. He’s studying Islam, considering conversion and identifies as a woman. Britain has spent years explaining how important it is to respect religious belief, gender identity and the law. Splendid principles, all of them. Then along comes an elderly gentleman who decides to take the instructions rather literally, and suddenly everyone needs to consult the manual. The police have their interpretation, the courts have theirs, and somewhere in Whitehall there’s probably a civil servant frantically searching for the section entitled “What If Somebody Actually Tries This?” The remarkable thing is that he hasn’t needed a megaphone, a protest march or even a particularly sturdy pair of shoes. Just a veil and an apparent willingness to test how all these carefully worded principles fit together. Whether his legal argument succeeds is for the court to decide. In the meantime, the questions are rather entertaining. One law for everyone. Apparently. Just don’t ask everyone at once.

It’s Normal Now looks at the little behaviours everyone quietly adopted while insisting nothing much had changed. Accept the terms, rate the experience, track the sleep, trust the screen and carry on. None of it arrived with a grand announcement. It just became routine, then sensible, then somehow obvious. The clever bit is how quickly people stop asking who decided any of it in the first place.

I’m Doing Fine is about that slightly inconvenient stage of moving on when life really has got better, but you haven’t become quite as indifferent as you’d like to think. The routines have changed, the room feels like yours again and hearing their name doesn’t ruin the day anymore. That’s progress. Still hoping they occasionally realise what they lost? Apparently, that can come along for the ride.

One Good Day opens Different Day with a quiet celebration of ordinary luck. Nothing miraculous happens. A bus arrives on time, the milk is still fresh, a friend gets in touch. Sometimes that’s enough.

Buh-Bye Keir is RebelliousBard’s thoroughly unsentimental farewell to Keir Starmer after a premiership that lasted less than two years. Farmers, pensioners, immigration, taxation, two-tier justice and the endless procession of nicknames all get one final outing as the song surveys what RebelliousBard regards as an extraordinarily destructive period of government. There is no gracious send-off and no sudden outbreak of respect for the office. Starmer is leaving; the argument here is that Britain still has to live with what he leaves behind.

You May looks at freedom with terms and conditions attached. You can speak, question, lead, succeed and step inside, provided you do it in the approved way and meet the standards waiting at the door. Nothing is explicitly forbidden. The boundaries simply make certain choices considerably easier than others.

Tolerance Is a One-Way Street is RebelliousBard’s rejection of a version of multiculturalism he believes demands endless accommodation from Britain while treating criticism of imported cultures, religions and practices as intolerance in itself. The song moves through knife attacks, religious exemptions, grooming gangs, flags and accusations of racism to make one deliberately uncompromising argument: tolerance that can only ever be demanded from the host society is not mutual tolerance at all.

I Don’t Think You Have, Mate takes aim at the perception of two-tier policing in Britain, moving through protests, public disorder, speech and violent crime to question whether political sensitivity has begun to influence who receives scrutiny, sympathy and protection. Its title turns one brief exchange into the song’s refrain: a statement of disbelief becoming an accusation about trust in the institutions expected to enforce the law.

Reasonable watches restraint become a comfortable place to hide. Every argument can be softened, every position balanced and every awkward conclusion postponed in the name of maturity. Nothing is denied outright. Nothing is challenged either. Staying reasonable eventually becomes another way of staying safely uninvolved.

Missed By Half is about the small misunderstandings that seem harmless until they start accumulating. A word is misheard, an intention is guessed and both people carry on rather than stopping to check. Eventually the disagreement isn’t really about what was originally said at all; it’s about everything each person has been filling in for themselves.