Tuesday, 19 February 2013


scene: man in bed with his wife, awoken by noises coming from downstairs. A demonic clown breaks the bedroom door down and begins to sing to musical accompaniment

Dis union don't work so well these days,
Sleeping off a decade's drunken haze,
Oh so now ashamed of this one time craze?
Well what did you think we were going to do?

I'll state it plain, we'll not behave,
We'll pinch the fillings out of your grave,
And while I divert you here with my many ways,
The boys are ransacking your house. [manic laughter]

Oh there's stagnation, stagflation,
Recession, repossession everywhere.
But we got opt-outs. Bail-outs.
We got options and you think we really care?

Coming back atcha with a brand new rhyme,
Whole bunch of concepts gonna redefine,
Ever more siphoned off all the time.
And what you gonna do about it?

Gonna own ya, gonna pimp ya, gonna prostitute.
Gonna turn for a profit 'to a nice hair suit.
Gonna leave ya like a leper when you're destitute.
And we got a million chumps just like ya.

Oh and that one charged the jobless,
And fiddled his expenses,
And the Quiet One claimed he done a degree.
And the one what bellows, 'Hard Work',
Is fifteenth earl of somewhere,
Filthy rich and all his breaks for free.

So listen up sonny, I'll say once more,
Plenty more land grabs left in store,
Ya can't have rich if you don't have poor.
And I could care less what Jesus has to say on the subject.

We'll take your weeks, we'll take your hours,
And your wife and kids? Yeah, they're now ours.
And all the while, the pack devours.
And you are just going to lie there and take it like the bitch you are.

Hey boys, I'd say it's just about hopeless in here. What say we finish up.

[fade to black]

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