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Hr.H marmalade high

Hr. H. marmalade high

We’ve had our own war it seems
closing down shops, one was called
Fortnum and Masons, where the rich
spend, and we can but only
spend time, well we can’t go
around always’ like the Ostrich.

Some were arrested, others hurt
a policeman’s pride at not being
able to protect Lizzie’s marmalade shop.
Think it’s closed today, tired from
all the cleaning, heard them say “untidy
that lot did you see the hairstyles?

Think of the song, your own music…

Lizzie’s marmalade shop closed today,
not enough old fruits to fill the glass.
Only truth defending youths came her way,
came to start an intrinsic war on class.

They think class is a most horrid word,
tends to separate worker from players.
I’ve heard it said that’s totally absurd,
that social fabric’s got so many layers.

We the workers get the hardest shift,
even nights are ours to collect and burn,
All week long we strive to go and lift,
a piece of what’s meant to be our turn.

I feel it’s not going to be long now,
we’ll see our young stop what rots.
No more with forelock touched at brow,
after all we are the people are we not’s.


Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
make music together we will overcome..
Editing stage: 


We again try to hide behind the curtain of helplessness, these young people have decided to act, as we should. Always we find an excuse, were to busy raisng a family, paying a mortgage, rent, watching football soaps, soaps that make heros out of our shit existance. Soaps that allow us to live someone elses life instead of our own, no Ian i will not condemn those young people, they have acted while we hide bow scrape and moan. As far as lybia a goes, how can our government drive through such radical action. Standing square with revolutionists in one country, but condemning them in ours. We are ruled by stealthy tyrants in suits they are ruled by overt tyrants in robes. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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