I never write on things that rhyme
I don’t chase girls before half-past nine
My wallet’s empty the dosh is gone
Like the fastest cake, it’s scone, it's gone,
Y’look at me and wait for a smile
But I’ve nowt to say and life’s a trial.
The fridge is empty; the plug’s pulled out,
I only eat food when I go out.
I never drink until Friday lunch,
I’m with a delicate but scary bunch,
They dye their hair and pierce their feet,
Stroll round to Lulu’s where we all meet,
She doesn’t work, she doesn’t sleep, she
Keeps us laughin’, she keeps us neat,
She’ll pay for food when we have none,
And we keep her safe if she’s alone.
It’s a strange old life and that’s a fact,
The carpet’s worn and the plaster’s cracked,
a dog yells loud into the night,
a babby cries while his parents fight,
I don’t get involved with things that rhyme
I’ve got no cause. I’ve got no time.
The country awaits someone to rise,
Take this veil from our eyes,
Remove these millionaires who push us around,
Speak for the poor on this ruined ground,
Defend the people from the scum,
But I don’t deal in words that rhyme,
I ain’t got the guts. I ain’t got time.
There’s an arrogance abroad, it sneers from
the screen, and from the papers where the
Truth should have been, it stagnates our
Lives with anger or fear, keeps us in our place,
Silent and unclear. Unclear of our rights,
Without the knowledge to speak, unsure
Of our strength, our bark or our teeth.
We sit in our boxes too scared to go out,
We don’t know what we’ll hear, don’t know
Who might be about. I pity our children,
Pity them all, they are already stained,
They can do nothing but fall. The Internet
Stagnates in a sewer of porn, our children
Click on the buttons and their childhood