At the mercy of the banks.
The money lenders,
Rhymes with something which
describes the besuited well.
A rude word, oh my God!
Priorities wrong as we damn ourselves.
Charity starts at home.
At the mercy of the foodbank.
No ‘hand outs’ from our taxes.
Only handing out smiles and
Let’s use the rotten produce of the supermarkets greed,
their binned waste.
Put the fat-cats in the stocks
and egg them in the face!
‘Only doing their jobs’.
Looking out for number one,
but never ME!
Self-interested, covetous and kissing MP’s
Corporate bully’s behave like yobs.
Crippling the Country and shafting us Royally.
Not nearly enough living wage jobs.
Getting us to blame each other so that we’re fighting amongst ourselves too much.
To see what’s really going on.
The blame game.
Exterminate the needy.
Let them destroy themselves.
Divide and rule.
Rule and conquer.
Repeat transparent lies about distribution of wealth.
Sing for your supper.
Don’t be a ‘useless eater’
Or try to shirk,
because we’re all in this together!
Some of us more than others.
In our fantasy land all sickness is imagined.
No one is EVER too ill to work.
If you starve it’s your own fault for being born ordinary,
How the undeserving poor,
are cluttering up our streets in a Dickensian manner.
Cry us a river for the poor poor plebs!
“Survival of the fittest chaps.”
You continue shouting from the seats of power with forever boorish, guffawing claps.
Seal your fate.
We hate you!
Right winged hearts shrunken, putrid, black and rank.
As you drag us down, whip us back to glorious Victoriana slavery.
We: left alone at the mercy of charity,
of the charity of the banks.