Marching Backwards Sadly

When the bombers are in town, And soldiers daren't open fire Because the legal profession Is so readily there for hire With no win no fee basis, Always eager for a prosecution When a military campaign Has come to its conclusion. When the rioters rule the streets Because the police are so few And there’s not enough of them To care about me and you. They’re all busy guarding The rich in their secure estates Ensuring top class security As they hide behind their gates. When the NHS is sold off To the Tories Yankee mates And we’re, in all but name, The latest of the United States, When Brexit is just a memory And you can get immediate sack, Just take it on the chin mate For you’ll have your country back. When that country is a wasteland Ruled by the gun and the knife And indiscriminate mob rule Is just an accepted fact of life, The death of the Welfare State The inevitable ending to the story When the working class majority Goes and votes for the Tory. Liz is still in the Palace Phil does things his way It’s like a scene frozen from A modern kitchen sink play. It’s back to Victorian times With just a few mod cons To pacify the peasant classes As that privileged few march on. So, Hey ho for Merrie England A place that never existed, A place where Christianity Was warped, bent and twisted To concentrate the power, make Social progress grudgingly slow And with, God Still In His Heaven, Maintain that jolly old Status Quo.