Ain't it their manor, ain't it their land
is it not their civilization tell me please
they call it post modern and the woke generation
then wake up and see I do not cry for you or your shame
impressive that thieves turn tables on righteousness says it greed
how modern that lynching mob and humiliating at the town stock is
better still witch-hunt and red Witch-finder Generals in Levi an Nikes

Millenniums indulgence, snowflakes privilege
our democracy supports the thieves of the land
and black lives matter as long as there are no Titles to see
meritocracy is for all as long as you know your place with no voice
its a new world order so sleep and stay woke up for anarchy fixes all look how far we've come when Rights and fairness means nothing
and mob and vigilante rule welcomes lying, cheating and wickedness

Tune in and drop in, all is now dope
and yes we mean you all who hear our message
we are lilies and the green fields and sacred island is ours alone
tear asunder the Titled invader and mash their lives to grain and pulp
remember our language is the most common in the whole wide world
so turn and twist it as you like, call the truth lie and say lies are truths
invade the invaders privacy, hold down, tie up and heap on miseries

We are the woke generation of the Master race
when we say we are all humans, we mean us not them
we built our land on ****, pillaging, gun-boats and chicanery
we rule the waves, now lets set waves and storms  our chosen foe
ain't it our manor, ain't it our land, why complain when we steal
Othello may be a General but that **** man was Moor you know
well the moors we have here stay where we want or its scorch-earth