If the house where the Lords took a seat
was under a shelter in the park, they would meet
the real situation.
The population unclassed,held fast to the street and who move to the beat of the heart of the city,
it's a pity that those with the clothes made to measure aren't made to take leisure time with the ragged men on the front line.
Indeed ,
ermine robes do not feed the ones who would lead a life such as we'd never know and
the lords never meet the men down on their luck and down on the street,it seems the sword is all rusted and the knot remains tied , to cut it would put someone out
and putting people out is without one single doubt what their lordships are really about.
As they posture it costs you and you pay through the nose,they're wearing Savile Row suits and you're foraging in bins wearing worn out old boots and who knows what comes next
who knows what comes after when you become vexed.
Revolution,
the constitution in crisis
the price of being priceless or worthless is worth less than we're told,
we will get a hold on this
we will kiss this goodbye
we will listen to him
when the speaker cries
order
and then send him away somewhere North of the border,
our swords are being sharpened
the knot will be hewn
and then we will see.