they come honest and good
Promising good food
With the peoples interests at heart
Diving in on the burning potatoes
Moral crusade which fears all foes
they earnestly yearn to play their part
They sit upon their power throne
Pushing buttons on their bright red phone
The buttons begin to stick
He turns into a dick
His fingers begin to click
a nation spews the sick
Corruption smiles
red phone still dials
They Fly
we Step back
They Fly
We Suffer
we forget the man
we meet the other
They disappear
we meet the monster
Tony bLIAR
Mad Thatcher
Mugabe Demons
George ‘The Twat’ Bush
They appear in their hundreds
Pouring crap onto our news screens
They breed new power struggles
as the politicians genes are spread
They appear in thier thousands
As new posts are in limelight
They make their big election decisions
As in their decisions are a trail of dead
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