Piss soaked doorways hidden around

Corners of our mouths shouting about

Nothing but bill posters will be prosecuted

If the masses keep throwing paint at bank windows

And leaving slogans hanging on construction

Billboards that will be torn down

Like cracked memories of pasts belittled

These protests mean everything to nothing

Thanks to orchestras in Manchester

And a hundred million idiots

Write empty words about it on forums

Full of spite and sweaty fingers


I’ve got no words to muster to put

Any of this to bed with monsters

Lingering at exposed ankles

In the darkness we fear shadows lurking

In corners stinking of piss

And footprints of lettuce

And veins inside bowling shoes

Sweating someone else’s sweat

And yet self consciousness makes

Us question our own race

Our brothers and sisters have become strangers

On the train we should never be spoken to

In case we all end up on a terror list

For not acting normal behind our mask

Of obscurity

We are all hiding from something

Our dark little secrets kettle us

We boil in our own chests

Our breath is on fire our minds

Are constructed from subliminal

Advertising Keeps us buying

Without noticing we could

Be happy if we were brave enough

To be brave enough to just sit

Just sit and turn off the tube

Open a book – learn something new

Do something different

Getting up and doing something

Makes us human – makes us alive


Control controls us, keep us sheep

Makes us livestock

Burdens our fingers with satan’s

Lovely vices, sins so beautiful they

Are caged behind lies in big books

Filled with megalomaniacal words

Pregnant with domination of





Your book may have different words

But they all say the same words







Take back your life

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