By Steven Cooke
My Brave ancestors of England,
Look away, for I offend thee.
For your England is no more.
Decay eats away at this fallen empire.
Your people divided,
Its laws weakened by Europe’s power.
Its leadership, protecting the few.
The fresh air of your Country gone,
Only the stench of anarchy remains
Heroes of The Somme look away for I offend thee.
Stock Market Parasites, take without producing
Corporations overwhelm, the weak,
Without paying their due.
Their off shore havens digest the life blood of this once great nation,
Leaving the scraps of minimum wage for the masses to beg.
The dead of Pashendale look away for I offend thee.
Government legislate to keep us in bondage to 66
Over the hill at 50, to wonder the dole queues
Youth denied education,
Universities at a price,
Qualifications for the chosen few,
Unemployment, for the poor.
Our brothers of Gallipoli look away for I offend thee.
Our Cities are in pain.
Hopeless lives, with hopeless dreams,
Hopeless choices, drugs, crime,
Or silence behind closed doors.
Babies born to fail,
Children, exposed to depression and chips.
The ghosts of Arnhem look away for I offend thee.
A voice in the darkness, shouts its rage
The iron curtain of youth descends on England
This is no Lennon revolution,
This is youth with no future, abandoned by government
No rules here to obey, No Civic pride,
No sense of History, no Country to protect
The Saviours of Goose green look away for I offend thee
But fat cats beware, for there is a dream,
That cannot be bought.
A warning from history.
A country cannot go forward,
Without learning from the past.
Your greed will self destruct
Your Paradise a lie
For a Dangerous wind now blows,
And common sense, will fail.
For England is Broken,
And life will never be the same,
In England’s green and pleasant land.
Now It is my turn to look away,
for you see this offends me too.