Parasites Paupers and Presidents
Oh God what is wrong with your people
Can you feel it, the pain and the loss
Are we each to be martyred and broken
Our sentence to end on the cross
The world cries in vain, for a leader
You killer, you pervert, you *****
As each tears the other, to pieces
Still they clamber to sit on that chair
There are those that wilfully plunder
The riches they claim, as their right
Though it’s tearing their neighbour, asunder
So what! that’s the way of the fight
Political puppets still pending
On election results, for to see
Who will skin from the hides of the lowly
For their flesh or their lucre to bleed
Keep changing their juxtapositions
One falls and another one rises
From party to party, they party
Securing, political prizes
Policies, policies, policies
Whilst we drown in a whirlpool, of ****
Political correctness abounds
If themselves aren’t the victims of it
How the dead they must roll, in their graves
As daily they’re Joined, by their kin
As political promise piles higher
Eclipsed by the weight of their sins
A country of saints and of scholars
Of singers, of poets and of bards
Condescension and greed, are her virtues
Our fate’s in the twist, of the cards
We wait, with the Wonder of children
A president, let us rejoice
A future of change, in the making
A fool, without even a voice
Break the chains, of the bastards, before you
Can’t you see, we’re all sick of the lies
As suicides mount up, daily
Can’t you hear it, the pain in their cries
A leader who’ll fight for the people
In these times, that are hotter than Hell
Will no-one stand tall, for the feeble
Only history ….. and time, it will tell
Copyright © Peter Walsh | Year Posted 2014
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