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My Land Is Burning
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1
My land is burning,
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and yet I smell no smoke.
3
No one's laughing here which is strange my dear,
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As the government's a joke.
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My land is burning,
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and yet I see no flames.
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We smolder mad while the fat cats add
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all out savings to their name.
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Pity me, pity me my fair lady.
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Pity me, pity me if you can,
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as I stamped myself with a small black cross
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When I voted for that man.
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My land is burning,
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yet nothing it alight,
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but the hell mouth doors of department stores
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while the old must freeze all night.
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My land is burning,
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yet nothing good's consumed,
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but the country side by the cars we ride
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while in tarmac we're consumed.
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Pity me, pity me my fair lady.
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Pity me, pity me if you can,
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as I stamped myself with a small black cross
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When I voted for that man.
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My land is burning,
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yet nowhere is it warm,
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just the street stipped bare by the crackhead stare
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of the braindead skateboy swarm.
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My land is burning,
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the government still lied.
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You underestimate our quite hate
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and the fire that burns inside.
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