How Long Before We’re Wearing Stars On Our Pyjamas

I
The disease of business elite
Infects Westminster with greed,
Soiled coin politicians
Wine, dine and 69
Party neutral donors,
On luxury yachts
So moneyed vultures can pick
Bones from asset-stripped nation.
Common’s benches lobby
For free trade dream
In side-room deals,
Corporate cash whores
Turn blind eye to tax debts
Compliance bought with a nod and a wink
And a six-figure membership
To a company’s board
Chaired by THE messiah of profit.
Unions vilified in the press,
Castrated in the Commons
By Westminster terrorists
Conducting ‘collatoral damage’
On housing estates
Screwing Prole further in their poverty hole:
Give us slogans telling us
‘We’ve never had it so good’
But we’re still fucking slaves
As far as I can tell,
Bull-whip and yoke swapped
For debt and TV
Oppressed obsessed with eastern patsy’s
While rights eroded by repressive law makers.
Food-banks feed first world hunger
While fat cats suckle cream
From a nation’s wizened breast
II
The real oppressors of your freedom
Are not wearing jackboots
Hijabs or stars on pyjamas.
They don’t bare arms on jihadi TV.
They don’t wear uniforms.
They don’t wear dog collars.
They don’t speak in foreign tongues.
They don’t cross borders.
They do not wait in hoodies
At the end of your street.
They don’t wear angry faces.
They will not be your friend.
They do not live in your house.
They are not the latest knife crime stats.
They do not listen to Rap.
They’ll be wearing suits
Matched with secret ties.
They will wave false flags.
They will steal your freedom
In the name of protection
While you skim social media.
They will be the face
Of faceless corporations.
They will engineer forced migration.
They will create borders
By which YOU are told to judge people.
They will fracture society.
They will manufacture fear.
They will not be ‘voted’ in.
They will not stand for democracy.
They will be the establishment.

Tags