By Angrytrainguy

    Lefty Banks is angry
    His bottle’s drained again
    The paper that it’s dressed in
    Is soaked in low-shelf gin
    He drags out sheets of foolscap
    From the armpit of his coat
    He holds them in his one good hand
    Clears the backwash from his throat
    He stands up on a milk crate
    On the street he’s forced to share
    And spouts his careful rantery
    To those who just don’t care…

    [Oi you!]

    It’s time to change your attitude
    To fill the gap between
    Insouciance and insolence
    The place where satire’s seen
    The practice of ironic fun
    Of sarcastic overreach
    The undoing of the arrogant
    And the synapse-cheated leech
    To point out who the bad guys are
    To hold them to the light
    To set their feet upon the fire
    To start a different fight
    Don’t wait for sewered airwaves
    To empty of their blah
    Of hubristic, twisted, lip jockeys
    Bloat-babbling in the bar
    The fat mouths
    Glued to empty heads
    Banging on and on and on
    About nothing that they know about
    About how they’d like us gone
    The sharers and the carers
    The queerers, and the blamed
    The innocent, the curious
    The halt, the blind, the lame
    But we’re still here
    Beneath the gaze
    Of their hilltop cruelty
    And the spew of blame and fear
    and trash and lack of subtlety
    But we will mount their barricades
    And take them one by one
    With wit and droll facetiousness
    And the euphemistic pun.

    [Or will we?]

    I see darkness on the borderlines
    I see gloom beyond the fence
    An underwhelming prophet’s voice
    That really makes no sense
    Has crept in on our TV screens
    It’s slipped beneath the door
    It’s telling us we haven’t tried
    And that is why we’re poor
    Poor because we haven’t bought
    The dreamy dreaming stuff
    And if you think you’ve bought the dream
    Then you haven’t bought enough
    Because there’s more
    there’s always more
    Of effervescent slime
    Of catastrophic impudence
    Dull thud of wasted time
    This you need and that you need
    With this you will be free
    To not chase that, you just can’t reach
    But the smiling man has found it
    His hair in perfect lines
    A life change that’s beyond belief
    If you could only read the signs
    We open doors and windows
    We let in airy air
    And nobody will argue
    Because no one really cares
    Unless they can be taller
    Unless they can be thin
    Unless they can be winners of
    A race that they’re not in
    And all this todge is funnelled through
    A lounge room rubbish bin.

    [Or is it?]

    Our leaders smirk and sneer at us
    As they climb the pole of power
    Blank faces hide the poisonous flaws
    Of more ambition by the hour
    They dwell in places silent
    They keep us out of reach
    With empty face and vacant stare
    From the blatant pulpit preach
    Of baffle-smoke and fuddle-fog
    Obfuscation, cloud and lie
    By saying all, they tell us nought
    They sell what we can’t buy
    With perfect strings of acronyms
    They hide what they should show
    Use GDP and EIS and EIEIO
    And then they blame the listless
    Who won’t salute the flag
    They deride them as the shiftless
    Whose behaviour is a drag
    On riches we could all enjoy
    If they showed a little spine
    And got a job, it’s easy I do it all the time
    And shiftily behind your back
    They’re doing quiet deals
    To shore up rich entitlements
    To oil and grease their wheels
    To ensure their class is privileged
    To see their mates do well
    They’ll open doors and pat some backs
    There’s no one they won’t sell.

    [Oi, oi, oi]

    Draped in flags and slogans
    The antis ante up
    Incensed, they think they’re being forced
    To sip from PC cups
    ‘Climate change is bollocks
    Vaccines are a plot
    Coal is good and wind is bad
    And uranium is not
    LG BT QI is sick
    Just leave our kids alone
    To find their way into the world
    From lessons learned at home
    Migrants and them refugees
    Had better stay away
    They’re not like us, we’re not like them
    It’s the weird way that they pray
    Government is way too big
    And taxes are too high
    We know they watch our every move
    Backdoor us on the sly
    We need our guns to save us
    In the fight that’s going to come
    Or they will just enslave us
    And let their will be done.’
    They turned up here because they fear
    Their voices won’t be heard
    As if they chose a diamond
    And found it was a turd
    Their jobs have gone
    Their Super’s gone
    Welfare is just cruel
    Kids in crowded classrooms
    In underfunded schools
    No one can afford a house
    For healthcare roll a dice
    If you think you’re going to Uni
    Best think about it twice.

    We’re done. It’s over.
    There’s nothing left to say
    Beelzebub has shafted us
    El Diablo’s had his way.
    And you can stick round here
    But there’s no way I will stay.

    And that was it, he’d said his bit
    He’d exhausted all his bait
    Watched by cops, he grabbed his props
    And stuffed them in his crate
    The wig came off, the coat came off
    The bottle carefully placed
    A towel to wipe the grit and snot
    He’d spread across his face
    And there he was in fine cut suit
    In fine white shirt and handmade boots
    Both arms intact, a man remanned
    A burnished gold chronometer
    On the wrist of his right hand
    He strolled down to the corner
    To a Mercedes waiting there
    To drive him back to Toorak
    Where he’s lived for thirty years.



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