The Inn Between
Trying, Failing, Trying Failing, Trying Succeeding, Whining and Complaining, Walking and Falling, Rising and Banging My Head Against This Wall Again, Sign, Signs, Signs EveryWhere …
Picture yourself unemployed, your life now in bin bags With no home, no car and no roof over you No food no boots no one to hold onto You children don't recognise you
Whilst high on a hillside the political powers dine upon luxury food Sipping their champers drinking your money And looking down upon you
Using your money to fund and support all of their business intrests Taken your life away, nothing left today
Lucy in the park with TB Lucy in the park with TB Lucy in the park with TB ohh OOh Poor Lucy
Morning has come and her fingers now blue her face is dark and won't move Her daughter can't wake her she cries "oh mummy"the coalition have killed you.. The government killed here with policy cuts and media lies each day Cameron and Clegg Lining their pockets as more more people die Lucys now gone on a boat to the heavens the ferryman took her away took her today
Lucy died in the park with TB Lucy in the park with TB Lucy in the park with TB Poor Lucy Oh wow
An un complementary ballad to the coalition government
TB or not TB! Is it in the badgers? That is the question. Whether 'tis noticed elsewhere - slurry perchance. As they shuffle off the coils of barbed wire or dodge the slings and arrows of culler’s slaughter for outrageous fortune, who for them will take up arms with a see of dissidents and by opposing end the heart-ache, the thousand natural shocks their setts are heir to? 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.