All we get is rhetoric,they're just gobbing off and I'm sick of it
we ought to send the ****** lot down the pit
I'm so frustrated I could spit.

They're bearing down on me in Downing street, building
high rise homes but
tearing down the street where I grew up,it
makes me want to throw up,show up with a deputation to
state the case for conservation,but they never listen to the likes
of me,
that's democracy,a bunch of scheming hypocrites sitting in their leather seats and tearing down my ****** streets,the ones where I grew up.

Well,
**** me, fracking's got to be the only saving grace I see,they say they'll frack far,far below,
ha,
so
them ******* at the top will be the first to know
when the whole world falls apart and
the last to bleedin' go.

He hits the **** switch and lets automated ****** begin,

an autocratic order of sin activated.

Multiple acts of hatred; trapped and baited out

to break our faith in humanity.

He holds a chalice of malice

and a sceptre set to insanity.

Can it be that he keeps an absent mind

hidden in his rage? Caged.

His vanity leaves him blind to atrocity,

a kingdom of states united by authority.

Live by the button,

**** by the gun of another man,

who die for the oil pumped through his black heart.

Call his wars; the dark art of offence,

the dark heart of profit.

What is a life worth to a man with nothing

but people skills. The skills to play the people,

who **** to pay the bills. Power unchecked.

Retrospect allows the backbenchers nothing

but regret. Power unchecked.

First past the post never holds the most votes

but they hold the host and create the ghosts,

the martyrs, the heroes of war, the dearly departed,

who they never thought of as too dear.

Quite the opposite; a small price to pay.

I have no memories to tell about my childhood
Without those crazy friends
I thought I knew

I have no memories to tell about my childhood
If those scars on my back
Were not born from those bamboo canes
I always hide from my mum

I have no memories to tell about my childhood
If only the sun use to hide its face
Cause nothing used to stop me
Not to fight with  my shadow
Even when the day fades away

I have nothing to tell about my childhood
If those night weren't scary
If Mummy was not back from the journey of making money
Cause I hate sleeping in the dark
Without my pillows on my face
Not the mosquito's net
Which I hate

I have nothing to tell about my childhood
If only the doors to schools
Where for fools
A B C D and 1 2 3
My mind fought with for two minutes
Without no lollipop they promise to give.
These memories  won't be sold
The long walk after school with friends
Asking silly questions for the class to end
The backbenchers
The smart ones
The latecomers
The greedy ones

I have not to tell about my childhood
If all those memories stop to breathe
Something about me I never knew
Until the knock of adulthood
Woke me up from those childish thoughts

                 ~ END ~
Written BY: SAMUEL PRINCE MOODY