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Jimmy Bowman Aug 2017
The world is a playground, the rich ring the bell,
the poor queue up and get lost in the smell.
That stench is the lies we're fed to believe.
Depressed, deprived, downtrodden, forgotten, we see
this system is broken, we cannot conceive,
a house where no one has anything in common.
A house that's failed us for so long.
One side shuts us out,
the other cast their morals with doubt.

Hey! Who's this Blair? He could make this our lair.
If we gain power no longer will we cower,
we'll have all the nice things they have over there,
we'll run the playground, sit in the big chair!
And more money, lots and lots of money...
Unlike the people we're supposed to help, how funny.

Things can only get better, it's a d:ream dream.
Play keys today and a scientist tomorrow
Noel at number ten look at our popularity grow!
A real alternative, a party for the working man
pack them up and send them to Iraq while you can!
There's nothing Socialist about a war criminal.
Tony, Tony, Tony how clinical.

Must this injustice persist.

Back in the playground we continue to queue.
Awaiting the bell, looking up at Teresa, wondering...
can we tame a shrew?
A lady turned and muttered to me,
this is no life, I'd go to uni 'cept for the tuition fee,
I work 'til I can't I stop when I die
I've nothing to show, ask yourself why.

There once was a man...

Like in that film when the Jedi appeared
and we all rejoiced and cheered as the leered
because the Jedi ****** off the Tusken Raiders
'cept this aint Tattooine this is earth we've our own Darth Vaders.
Yet I'm sure the Death Star had free health care.
That weren't under threat, that weren't stripped bare.
Workers rights left a little to be desired
but to be fair half of his staff were totally wired.
But this galaxy's not far far away, it's far far too close to home.
And that man I spoke of was purged by his own.
Yet 313,209 voted return of the Jedi.
All those in favour say aye!
To the return of our party, the return of a new hope
the return of an opposition, to the end of this *****.

No to the Blairite,
no to the far right,
and as for austerity?
He sees the severity.
The times are a changin',
the people are raging,
the Tories need caging
and parliament rearranging.

The bell rings out and we start to walk.
We're back to the classroom where no one can talk.
We're spoon fed more lies and then we go home.
Now we have a chance to make government our own.
Written in the wake of the second labour leadership election Jeremy Corbyn won and touches on the state of politics in the uk as well as harping back to the horrible idea of new labour.
Jimmy Bowman Jun 2016

June 24th and no spitfires overhead
Alas my head is not sleepy but I long to stay in bed
For the air today is somewhat different
But I'll get up and put on a stiff front
As I breathe in the mutiny
I still see the beauty
My countrymen have failed me
But I strive for solidarity
Today is a one magpie kind of day.
All I want to do is hide and lay
Under these covers in complete dismay
At the present and the future turning into the past
At the world outside, my flag is half mast.

I shudder at the thought
Of those distraught
Of those we've turned our back on
We're humans, we should undo wrong
It's a fundamental duty
To help, learn, teach, yearn, care duly
As peace and love prevails
Or are these things just now fairy tales?

Our futures have been decided
By those who've lived and misguided
Those whose future is short
Those who think "left!?" and snort
For they've had their time
This is OURS and their biggest crime?
Paving a future that isn't mine.

To the NHS
I say God bless
Would you risk free health
For power and wealth?

Immigration a modern salvation
Blessed are we as a nation
To behold multiculturalism and share
Beliefs and lifestyles and care
We did so well, we have a Muslim mayor!
But now we're out, it doesn't seem fair.

Are we really a nation of pig molesting
A nation who leave those Syrians festering
In squalor over the Channel and all alone
After we tore apart and bombed their home.

Surely the future is one of progress
Not of an empire and regress
But here I am laying in bed
Trying to make sense of all this in my ****** lefty head.

What's done is done
Along with the rising sun
Comes a new day
Seize it we shall and turn it from grey.

Now I've always liked Paul Weller
I'll paraphrase this as it's fitting and stellar:

"you made your bed you'd better lie in it,
you choose your leaders and place your trust
as their lies wash you down and their promises rust
the public wants what the public gets but I don't get what this society wants."

Me neither Paul.
Written in the wake of the UK's EU referendum. Available as an audio track via soundcloud:
Jimmy Bowman Feb 2013
I can see behind those rocks.
Beyond the solid facade.
They don’t fool me.
You’re eroding day by day.

You may beat scissors,
but remember I've got paper.
Deep within the rock pool
there lies a spectrum.
Jimmy Bowman Jul 2012
All my days are empty and the pages of my
diary are all silver foil,
With nought but an inky black snake,
Carving its way through the days,
They come at me quicker each year,
But yet I still reflect upon what I’ve achieved,
And ask myself where it has all gone?

I find myself sitting in this dark room,
With only padding as my witness,
The answer soon becomes clear,
As I sit in this chair that persists on clasping me in
Its jaws,
The lights seem to dim and it floods back.

Nothing could stand in my way previous to this,
The blue shrills followed me everywhere and cried,
Cried like I did that night,
They led me here seperated only by a cross and thread.

Forgive me father.

— The End —