Dear Sir,

Saw you on Question Time, didn’t catch your name but does it matter

You’re all the same

Berating and generalising

Bile spouting nonsense

Here’s a story

Based somewhere near the truth

Not like the half-baked lies you pedal

Strongbow at 11am

Couldn’t resist 2 for 1

Couldn’t resist going for that long

Hazy sun crowning the hill



Just everyday

Dry as a bone

The dizziness has returned

Sat in the dark

TV talking

Churning out hatred to dial

You say hard working entrepreneur

They say bollocks to all that

Bollocks to everyone and everything

Why shouldn’t they?

What have you ever given to them apart from shame


confusion and fear

All key ingredients in an election year

Empty eyes

Exhausted and alone

Abandoned by a government full of fucking assholes

We’ve travelled so far from where we started

The land is not ours

Driven out of homes we don’t really own

Driven out of lives we don’t really own

This land is not ours

But it should be

Let’s take it back

From the sharks

For the beggars

Let’s burn down their thrones

This land is not ours

But it should be

Let’s take it back

From the oligarchs and media moguls

From the reality TV,

From the politicians and bankers, the hypocrisy

This land is our land

Let’s take it back

On the other hand the mountain’s too high

Strongbow at 11am

Makes sense to me

Sincerely Yours

Mrs. A Face Amongst The Masses

©John de Gruyther 2014

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