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They sing God save the King
and the pride that it brings
always puffs out their beer barrel chests,
see them posture and sneer
causing hatred and fear
with their slogans and Wife Beater vests.

"Rule Britannia" they shout
"Get the brown people out
'cause they're just not the same as we are,
they're taking our jobs,
and I've heard they eat dogs
That Woke lot have all gone too far!"

"We need to be free of all Muslims you see,
cause they're bringing in Shakira law,
all these fighting age men that the lefties let in
will behead you outside your front door"

"They're not fleeing war zones,
they have Nikes and Iphones,
they risk death to leave France, it's bizarre!
Now they've come over here
and the reason is clear
it's the benefits, housing and Car"

They sing God save The King
and the "pride" that it brings
leaves the rest of our Nation ashamed.
With hands clutched to their chest
and the flag they love best
they'll destroy what once made Britain Great.
Silently she comes to me
in places that I seldom go
though swift as summer she may be,
midwinter is her afterglow

She whispers of a rebel child
once raised amongst the walking dead
and how that child became the sword
that hangs above the monsters head.

She sings to me of spinning skirts
that twirl and lift to raging storms
while all the raindrops yearned to dance
and freedom reigned, as yet to fall.

She will not speak about the dark,
she pays no mind to sorrow
but in her eyes I see she bears
the weight of all tomorrows.

Then with a whisper leaves me here,
where silence weaves it's lonely way
into this once proud rebel child
who surely soon will have her day.
What it is to be small
barely something at all
while my silence engulfs every breath
I could yearn to be seen,
because yearning is free
though the outcomes are laden with stress.
So I'll just stay sat here
little freak, bound by fears
Marked by all that I ever dared love,
While the clocks mark the hours
and my heart is devoured
by a man who knows not what he does.
The enemy lies bleeding
I cut off all her curls
I scrubbed the scarlet from her roots
and wore her eyes as pearls
her tears, now diamond droplets
sit cold against my cheek
in reverence of solitude
a blessing to the meek.
When there isn't a song that will soothe you
and your head's filled with clatter and din,
when the words of the poets won't move you
and a war rages on deep within.

Take a moment to look at your showreel
all the best bits, the outtakes and flops,
all the things that you loved and then hated,
all the lovers you loved and then lost.

All the mix tapes you ever recorded
and the posters you had on your walls,
all the first times, the last times, the heartbreaks
all your triumphs, the fights and the falls.

Like the song you heard once on the radio
that caused an obsession to start,
or the novel they said you were bound to enjoy
that ended up breaking your heart.

A life is well lived if you live it,
and death takes its toll on us all
Make the time, take a risk, grasp the nettle,
take a leap, do your thing, have a ball!
I think about the times you used to tell me pretty lies
Like my illness didn't bore you and my thighs were the right size
and I loved you just for knowing all the things that I denied
and we talked about forever, like those songs that we despise

Now I sit with ghosts in empty rooms just asking myself why
all my rainy day tomorrows are the colour of your eyes,
and I'm drinking down this liquor just to get me through the day
It doesn't bring you back but it sure helps keep me at bay.

You used to bring your beast to breakfast
but it wouldn't make a sound,
I used to hide inside and treat my demons to another round,
but the corridors between us made the silence seem too loud
we could have made it through but we were just too ******* proud.

So I'll talk about my trauma
cause it lets me say your name
I've tried to conjure you with self harm
But the scars don't feel the same,
Well I guess I'll have to wear them
cause they cover up my shame,
the truth sits pointing fingers
but no one will take the blame.
The sun it rises with our eyes
as purest love within us grows,
it put down roots within our souls
before our fates were ever sown.

It sits within us old as time,
yet feels as new as winter snow
and wiser Saints than you or I
would burn to never let it go.

So with this dawn we'll make a pact
no blood will spill, no daggers drawn,
and you, my love will own a heart
that sings for you with every morn.
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