79. A Tory love song.(March 2015)

This was posted a couple of week ago but I felt I had to repost it. Whatever its merits, or otherwise, if it helped one person who was undecided take the democratically moral course behind the curtain today instead of the path of self interest its justified. Even if its wholly ignored this is all I have left to offer.

So this is my last two penneth worth. Those who know me won’t be surprised by the sentiments here only by the lack of swearing and revolutionary ranting. To those who don’t know me, I’ve toned it down to mere outrage.

On the lyric itself I’ve taken the lazy way out in just leaving the 3 alternate endings in place. I was about to say I left it like that so you could pick which one fits best. In truth I’ve had enough of it. All of it. When will someone burn their house down?

79. A Tory love song.(March 2015)

We only make love every five years,
And twice a decades still far too much,
I only do it for appearances,
But do it like a first time lovers crush,

Kiss me now on my lips,
No wait, kiss me now on paper,
Let your pen make those two slips,
That let me abuse you later,

Nothing loves a fool, as much as money does,
Now stop your bitching,
Get to work,
You’ve got to pay for more than me,

It’s not like you don’t really matter,
Because at these times you really do,
Though I could do without the degradation,
Of having to come and talk down to you,

But it’s not like I’ll have to do it again,
Because in May our divorce is final,
My chum bigotry gives me custody of it all,
Including “Liberties” last coffin nail,

And nothing loves a fool, as much as money does,
Now stop your bitching,
Get to work,
You’ve got to pay for more than me,

*Ending 1*

RIP Democracy,

OR….

*Ending 2*

RIP Democracy

Now I’m gonna have to close your schools,
And take away your health service too,
By the way you won’t need your vote,
You’ll be too busy working just to stay poor,

Fools, fools, fools,(FX:Glasses clinking, bottles popping laughter)

Fools, fools, fools,(FX:Glasses clinking, bottles popping, laughter)

OR….

*Ending 3*

Rah rah rah, we’re going to smash the oiks,
Rah rah rah, we’re going to smash the oiks,
Rah rah rah, we’re going to smash the oiks,
TO FADE.

(c) Jim Laing, March 2015.

Outtakes.
79. Fuckwits and fornicators. ?? (March 15).

79. Will the turkeys vote for Christmas? (A Tory love song)
It’s not you
Matter most to me,
And nothing loves a fool as much as money does,
So you keep being you,
And I’ll keep being me,
And you’ll be poor or hungry,
Or maybe even dead,
I love the way that you stand by me,
The way you believe all my cheap talk,
But, baby, baby….bleurgghh, most of all,
You’re gullibility makes me balk,

Class like cream rises to the top,
I can hear everything you say,
But then carries on more like steam,
And just evaporates away,

Now kiss me close and love me,
No, not on the lips, but on the paper in the square,
Then go away and leave don’t shame me,
Leave me to my limousines conditioned air,
I love you believe all my cheap talk,
That’s there’s something really called Democracy,
You’re gullibility makes me balk,
I laugh at you in my shit where you belong to be,

I love the way that you stand by me,
The way you believe all my cheap talk,
And you believe my names Democracy?
You’re gullibility makes me balk,
My chum Justice gives me custody of it all,
Your heights and depths alone won’t do for me,
I’ll take all that you have that’s in between,
Nothing loves a fool as much as money does,
Now stop your bitching, get to work you’ve got to pay for me,

Oh, Pecunious, you’re my only real true love,
I only do it for our free lunch,
Will you rub me with your moneyed glove,
Help rid me now of this common touch,

Oh there’s the smell and there’s the poverty,
I can’t help but balk at their gullibility,
And to think I have to talk to them,
And even worse to touch them,
These Morlocks of the TV classes,
Who lack our class,

Oh, Pecunious, you’re my only real true love,
I only do it for our free lunch,
Will you rub me with your moneyed glove,
Help rid me now of this common touch,

Oh there’s the smell and there’s the poverty,
And the breathing of their fetid air,
The gullibility that makes me balk,
Of these Morlocks of the lower orders,

Nothing loves a fool, as much as money does,
Now stop your bitching,
Get to work,
You’ve got to pay for more than me,
But, baby, baby, baby, most of all,
You’re brain dead gullibility makes me balk,

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About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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