The constancy of Political Abuser,

Affects us the poor,

The disenfranchised end user.

So I damn you Politicians

To rot in Hell.

To spend a spell,

Within my day,

Listen to what I say

I can hear your bellies already rumbling

Hear you say,

What no more A La C arte and apples crumbling.

Live on stale handouts

Yesterdays bread

And you said,

We’ve never had it so good,

Brains made of balsa wood

That’s what you’ve got

But that’s a lot,

When you compare,

With those on the Streets

Those in despair.

So have some heart.

Give some part of Legislation,

To upset the apple cart

Of desperation.


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