Land of Despair and Sorrow

Land of Despair and Sorrow

Land of despair and sorrow

 A land that’s full of greed

How shall we describe you

A land that once belonged

To me....

Born into the mouth of poverty

They preached that god almighty

Would one day make us free

But that was just a fable

Told to you and me.

No truths or rights or freedoms

Or stars of solemn brightness

To light us on our way

Just gloom and pitch black darkness

In every waking day.

Land of despair and sorrow

A land that’s full of greed

How shall we describe you

A land that once belonged

To me....

Hark this divided nation

This vile land of the west

With some of great fortunes

A pittance of the counties wealth

Divided amongst the rest.

Our hopes are all down trodden

By men of wealth and greed

Who ride the Tory chariot

Over every others needs

They plunder our tiny nation

To placate the bankers greed

Then force the men and women

To beg for their every need..

Land of lying bastards

A land that’s full of graft and greed

Of governments of moral corruption

This England, of Septic seeds

(Land of Hope and Glory, bollocks)?

Peter Wicks

Land of my fathers

Scourge of my genes

that  flows in my veins

the blood of my fore fathers

of centuries  past

bare witness to England

the land of my breed

this septic land

of beggars and thieves....

From the whipping posts

of 1694 in the dudgeons

in Bedlam, the Clink

for the insane

my genes have been there

bare witnessed my name...

‘Twas back with

King Henry in 1532

They boiled my ancestors

my own kith and kin

for paying no taxes

on Henry’s evil whim....

But this land

of my fathers

like Bedlam of old

still manacles and shackles

and throws you in Clink....

For their god called money

quicker than an eyelid blink

 for  this Sceptred Isle

is putrid and stinks

for Poll tax evasion

they put you in clink.....

Now the banks went bust

But who pays the bills?

That the wealthy do

 pinch and steal...

Tis us who will pay

For the deeds that

They’ve done

The Land of my fathers

Called the upper class

SCUM......

Peter  Wicks