| Whiter than pure White.What type of shadow will | | | | Against all those who would own our soil, |
| linger when I'm gone, | | | | Are we then now so meek and mild, |
| What ghost of me will haunt heraldic halls of fame, | | | | We have even lost the will to think and fight, |
| Ive tried my best to cover over all my tracks, | | | | Are we going to sit back and merely take it, |
| And where impossible have spread the taint of blame, | | | | When we know to hell and back it isnt right.NO roared |
| As my multitudes grew daily more uneducated as I | | | | the Lion reverberating mightily, |
| progressed, | | | | We will again wield those swords our bloodlines |
| So now many fortunately will not read tales of my fall, | | | | forged, |
| They will however hear my faultless baritoned Songs | | | | We will advance strong against this sniveling enemy, |
| of Praise, | | | | For the age old England and Saint George, |
| And thus be enthralled by my final curtain call, | | | | And force them finally to put it to the vote, |
| And though Im sure they will crave an encore or two, | | | | Just tell them thats exactly how its going to be, |
| Im afraid this time I have to let them all down, | | | | Maybe then this country can be run by heroes, |
| Though they thirst for my genuflected Presidential | | | | Maybe then we can all be free.The Wicker Man.On |
| wave, | | | | an island carved from granite, |
| Or merely to gaze upon my ermined sceptre and | | | | Which down dark centuries provided light, |
| crown, | | | | A dawn heralds a totally new monolith, |
| Many was the voice that tried to thwart me, | | | | A new might born out of night, |
| But they were smeared, bullied, killed and died, | | | | It stands powerful, tall and imposing, |
| Or evicted without the youth to defend themselves, | | | | Dwarfing the loftiest models ever planned, |
| Or disallowed quite legal protests staged outside, | | | | Seemingly indestructible and super solid, |
| Some would have me painted quite deluded, | | | | Its the long prophesied Wicker Man.And Lo, it says |
| But I must tell you now honestly as I stand here, | | | | what all would hear, |
| I would gladly have gone so very long ago, | | | | It breathes air into all our sails, |
| If my adoring public did not hold me so dear.The | | | | And no one questions its honesty, |
| shadow, Sir, is evil, blighted with contaminating lies, | | | | For statistically it never fails, |
| The epitaph rings oh so hollow down echoing old halls, | | | | No one thinks to look inside, |
| The ghosts are of past heroes glaring down in anger, | | | | For preview portents of the morrow, |
| From their framed historical pictures on ancient walls, | | | | A glimpse behind the media front, |
| They see this puny actor with fresh blood upon his | | | | Would show the Wicker Man is really |
| hands, | | | | hollow.Programmed to realistically act out his part, |
| Dripping away souls for naught where honour once | | | | Chameleonesque to suit his current plot, |
| resided, | | | | Never afraid to make pronouncements, |
| They see a caricature who has achieved absolutely | | | | Of all the gleaming goodies he has got, |
| nothing, | | | | But when he tells us hes sincere, |
| And who is yesterdays news, now ridiculed and | | | | And of all the honesty in his soul, |
| derided, | | | | We dont realise hes just a Wicker Man, |
| Who strives to assert authority with storm trooper | | | | And all thats inside is a hole.Thats why he cant tell |
| tactics, | | | | wrong from right, |
| Pursuing new ill thought laws denying human rights, | | | | Truth from fiction, pleasure from pain, |
| And putting us all on big brother intrusive databases, | | | | Because he hasnt got a soul or heart, |
| So he can swoop on you quietly in the dead of | | | | Just a self deluding convenience brain, |
| night.What legacy and great feats were ever attained, | | | | So whatever needs to be said to smooth, |
| Those born today will merely inherit his wind, | | | | Is intoned whilst looking straight in your eyes, |
| Those promises so great and visions so strong, | | | | It matters not what hes telling you sincerely, |
| Were lost in clouds of lies, deceit and spin, | | | | Is yet another pack of advantageous lies.Ten years |
| Big Brother now creepingly rules from his database, | | | | later there are those that can see, |
| Uneducated masses being a decidedly useful plus, | | | | Through that multi faceted outer shell, |
| Why do you think Tony did away with learning, | | | | Perceiving theres actually no substance, |
| All the better to rule unquestioned over us.His legacy | | | | Beneath the polished surface of farewell, |
| is an Emperor stripped naked, | | | | He trots out lists of achievements great, |
| After years of Presidential style media lies, | | | | From another land or another time, |
| No one believes a word politicians say, | | | | To underpin his legacy and Churchillianness, |
| For too many wolves have already cried, | | | | When all hes willed is poverty and rising crime, |
| No one ever heard any apology either, | | | | An NHS to die for, merely enter their doors, |
| For all those years they have been betrayed, | | | | An education in illiteracy, shorn of history, |
| For all the incessant talking then inaction, | | | | And decimating our troops in His illegal wars, |
| On all the grand promises He made, | | | | A population frightened in its own homes, |
| So school report at end of term, | | | | Who quietly dread the onset of feral night, |
| Reads not so well as He would pray, | | | | All because they three times trusted, |
| Master Blair failed dismally in every subject, | | | | The Wicker Man would put it right.His last speech was |
| And lied his way through every single day, | | | | another treason, |
| Tony has made severe errors of judgement, | | | | His master class in barefaced lies, |
| Whose consequences for others have been grave, | | | | There are no lasting epitaphs, |
| Yet Tony feels the need to blame others, | | | | Glorifying Him in our eyes, |
| When it was decisions he alone had made, | | | | All that shimmers through the gloom, |
| When Master Blair faces honest depositions, | | | | His tenancy has created for us all, |
| Or in debate is questioned on his words, | | | | Are rows of white marble headstones, |
| Said opponent is invariably vilified, | | | | For those He sold out most of all, |
| Or stained, discredited, killed or slurred, | | | | For we can rebuild after Him, |
| Tony could do better and try harder, | | | | Once he spontaneously combusts, |
| If only there were a next term to come around, | | | | But our soldiers cant reincarnate, |
| For he has sunk so very low at present, | | | | To contest His abuse of trust, |
| It would be impossible not to find higher ground.And | | | | Now the Wicker Man is abdicating, |
| amazingly now the great Lion of the public, | | | | In favour of Gordon the Smug, |
| Ignored and silent for so long, lets out a low growl, | | | | Will we now see through his stupidity, |
| Bares his teeth and gets up to his feet, | | | | Or start taking a new drug.A drug that created |
| And with resonating roar begins to prowl, | | | | worthless pensions, |
| Who is this usurper of all we hold dear, | | | | And transmuted golden surplus into debt and tax, |
| Who is this mouse upon the throne, | | | | Creating one trillion borrowed souls, |
| Who is this actor with nothing real inside, | | | | Due to lending restraints being relaxed, |
| Who thinks we are his dog to proffer the odd bone, | | | | A country floated on flimsy credit cards, |
| We are this mighty nation forged with pride, | | | | And heavy remortgages to balance the sums, |
| We have history and tradition saying we can fight, | | | | Record insolvencies and rising unemployment, |
| We have been blind to believe all of his lies, | | | | Is what that creates for us crumbs, |
| But now we are going to put it right. | | | | While the smug Chancellor eats of cake, |
| We deserve to believe our vision, | | | | And says all is fine and hes divine, |
| We deserve education not lies, | | | | Just put your total trust in me, |
| We deserve hospitals that cure us, | | | | Now where have we heard that line.The Wicker Man |
| Not ones that ensure we will die, | | | | will burn in hell, |
| We deserve to live in peace, | | | | For the lies hes coldly told, |
| Not cower in our homes in fear, | | | | His cabinet will perish in purgatory, |
| Above all we deserve the truth, | | | | For allowing him his hold, |
| Yet it is only ever lies we hear.So Tony just tiptoes | | | | And this smug oaf who would follow, |
| silently and shamefully away, | | | | Whose maths is surely recently learned, |
| Leaving absolutely nothing noteworthy in his place, | | | | Should be treated as the latest pariah, |
| No everlasting Valhalla legacy of greatness, | | | | Not to be trusted but to be spurned.For who are |
| He is too afraid now to even show his face, | | | | these to presume, |
| Dead bodies still pile up daily at his door, | | | | They govern wisely over us, |
| Intent to haunt the reason for their demise, | | | | They abuse our mandate and lie, |
| Blood pouring slowly from their mouths, | | | | They patronise all of our trust, |
| In an ironic parody of his ceaseless streams of | | | | They presume we are so stupid, |
| lies.And the king is in his counting house serene, | | | | We can be fed fiction as if fools, |
| Licking his lips with anticipatorary glee, | | | | That we need them to think for us, |
| Counting his chickens too fast it now seems, | | | | That we need new sets of rules, |
| In his dreams of dominion over you and me, | | | | To tell us all what to do, |
| As the liar leaves the final battlefield, | | | | Where to go, and how to act, |
| Unscathed, unlike his fallen servicemen, | | | | Assuming we will just simply obey, |
| He who presumes automatic anointment, | | | | And believe their twisted facts, |
| Would, it seems, have to think again.For the ruling of | | | | We are the British Lion, |
| our country is not a bauble, | | | | We deserve the truth, |
| To pass on as if meaningless and trite, | | | | We deserve proper education, |
| No, there has to be the sanction of the Lion, | | | | For the future of our youth, |
| And there has to be a Parliamentary fight, | | | | We deserve medical assistance, |
| If our glorious President chooses to abdicate, | | | | Without the fear of bugs, |
| Because he is patently not fit to rule, | | | | We deserve to receive the best, |
| There should surely be a general election, | | | | And not rationing of expensive drugs, |
| Not just passing on the baton to a fool.And the Lion | | | | We deserve to live in a nation, |
| roared I will be heard, | | | | Without millions more every year, |
| I want a vote of no confidence right now, | | | | Putting strains on existing services, |
| And ferocious was the look in his eyes, | | | | For those who are already here, |
| And knotted very tightly was his brow, | | | | We deserve a proper General, |
| What insolence to think that we would, | | | | Who really cares for our land, |
| Meekly sit and watch them all decide, | | | | Who treats us as intelligent, |
| Who would now become our Prime Minister, | | | | Who carries out his plans, |
| And just assume it someone from their side, | | | | We deserve actions not words, |
| Does our great country not have a say in, | | | | We deserve honesty not spin, |
| Who governs us in our historic name, | | | | We deserve not a polished speaker, |
| It is not just a game of pass the parcel, | | | | But one having integrity within, |
| Now the liar has finally been shamed, | | | | Who tries to make us all, |
| If theres to be a new king of our country, | | | | One country and one mind, |
| The lion roared with all of his might, | | | | We need someone we can trust, |
| Then let it be put to a general election, | | | | Not more of the old lies, |
| If these curs have the stomach for a fight, | | | | We need a Churchill reborn, |
| This pack of sycophants so spineless, | | | | A pure Rolls Royce with elan, |
| They allowed that craven liar Blair full rein, | | | | We need someone of substance, |
| Are we going to be ruled by these timid men, | | | | Not another hollow Wicker Man.Yo Blair. Emails |
| Are we all content to be subjugate again, | | | | mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk |
| Or are we all proud to be born British, | | | | poems@blueyonder.co.ukI am 54. I was a systems |
| Proud of centuries long of fire and toil, | | | | programmer/civil engineer. Now run to => website for |
| Proud of standing proud alone quite often, | | | | free. |