Our pockets are empty
Our pockets are empty
And frozen to the core
Heating and lighting
We can’t use that anymore...
Our bellies are empty
As food bills rise to the sky
Do we freeze or starve to death
Until this ruddy nation dies?....
Insulate your bodies
With fibreglass from you lofts
Careful how you use it
It can make you ruddy cough....
Sleeping bags are hard to find
Pensioners grabbed the lot
Keeps them warm in winter
This government don’t give a tot....
We have no money to spend on you
This government has made that plain
Go warm yourself in supermarkets
Whilst gazing at the food
Beg and plead with these giants
As they throw the scraps at you....
Well done New Labour
You’ve thrown the crown away
You never had a principle
To call your very own...
You find them in the dustbins
Around MP’s second homes...
Gis a crust of bread, mister MP
Peter the beggar Wicks
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