Thugs with Pens Hell-bent; not on cultism Just airing the other sentiments That don’t make it to primetime
Thugs with pens Not poking out eyes Just venting spleen Sick of the lies
Thugs with pens Deserve to be heard They don’t poison your brain With stacks of *****
Thugs with pens And aerosol cans Can change your mind In ******* time
Thugs with pens Can make a dent They don’t need to insert Un-readable, un-interesting Covert small print....
Thugs with pens Don’t need no script writers Or advisors nor signatories Witnesses, nor dodgy men With gold plated fountain pen nibs To make amends Or throw in no hidden clauses That secretly **** your life blood
Thugs with pens Don’t aim to pierce your skin But make their mark Deeper within
Thugs with pens And aerosol cans Completely uncensored champions of free speech The establishment want suppressed, silenced, deleted; terminated.
Thugs with pens And aerosol cans don’t Schedule meetings To fix the minutes And schedule another meeting And keep ‘minutes’ As square angled And unproductive As formal conversation
Thugs with pens Aim venomous ink At headless politicians That squawks like chickens Bending over For the ******* Bank-beefing corporations, Controlling the masses With ***** little catchphrases And mounds of munitions And illegally enforced restrictions On your movement and free expression
Honest men Have nothing to fear From Thugs with Pens & Aerosol Cans These “thugs” seek asylum From countries Where the law’s Not bought and bent Thugs with pens & aerosol cans Are made to wear monikers and masks
Thugs with pens Don’t turn on its own Neighbours and citizens To perpetuate myths: A ****** ******* lie… A thing that never happened! (That’s for all of you dumb wits out there Who believe most of the **** That’s drip fed Your sensation addicted minds Most of the time,) Time you started reading between the lines
In fact get a pen Or an aerosol can Write your own lines Start broadcasting Reclaim your space Before you’re completely neoned Into the shade And corralled under the spell Of a TV screen Or an anger raising headline That conducts the flow Of the status quo
Load up your magazines With ball point pens And sharp edged writing nibs, ******* a belt of aerosol cans Reclaim your right to free expression In public spaces Join the rag-tag army Of intuitive Self-knowing men
The End: is well begun, George Orwell Should never have written That blueprint, ‘1984’