Dear Sir or Madam
I dont normally write to the press,
But the neighbourhood where I grew up
Is really quite depressed.
Society is crumbling
But the media's obsessed
With b**bs, bums, dot com millionaires,
Fame, fashion, ftse shares.
But people people, they couldnt care less.
While parliamentery yobbos
Shout abuse around the house,
Do-Gooders and reformers
Lead our nation to defeat,
While murderers and terrorists
Get compa**ionate release.
'You're out now',
You're back on the street.
Yeah, back on the street.
Thats why
I remain
Yours truly
Confused, N10.
I close my eyes and lay back
And I think of England.
I dream about that green and pleasant land
We knew as England.
That throne of kings,
That sceptered isle,
Set in a silver sea
Has turned into a laughing stock
Divided without harmony.
Thats why
I remain
Yours truly
Confused, N10.
The burglars have ransacked
All the houses in the street,
Whilst mercs and porsches douuble-park
With sheer impunity.
When towed away the ponces plead
To all and sundry
Referee!
What about me?
So forgive my lack of confidence
And total low-esteem,
But the dog eat dog society
Has deemed us all has-beens.
And smiling ______ skinned (?) doctors
Slyly lead us down the track
To a stab in the back.
Im much too terrified to go out at night
But the televisions boring.
They're vandalising all the cars on the street
But I wont lay down and take defeat.
ba-ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba
ba-ba ba ba
Thats why
I remain
Yours truly
Confused, N10.