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Oliver Twisting

We like to strangle your ideas

And bury them in the dirt.

That’s just the way we like ‘em,

Buried and inert

We can’t have dissention 

Or questioning ideas 

So we artfully replace ‘em

With uncertainty and fears

We control the narrative

With our lackeys in the press

Silence and side-line voices

That might expose our mess

It’s such a well-worn route

They don’t realise we tread it

We appoint the blame

And always claim the credit

We’ve chums in the right places

So we fix and win the races

It’s our destiny, we won’t weaken

That’s what we’re taught

At Harrow and Eton.

Doing it for centuries

It’s always worked a treat

We have it to a fine art

It’s our bread and meat

Come out with lies and bullshit

Bamboozle bluff and bluster

Say one thing, do another

Then doubletalk for cover.

Meanwhile we wield the power

And busy behind the scenes

We’ve changed the rules and laws 

For those of us with means.

Gosh we pinch ourselves

They swallow it so easy

But you bet we keep a weather eye

For those that’s getting teasey

So it’s tickety-boo and  gravy

For us, the born and deserving

So don’t you ever dare to think 

Of asking for another serving.

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