Land of Sin

velvet glove, no iron fist

for those who join(ed) the dole list

the leaders cried ‘we must abide!

by policy of eurocrat, who lied

‘a policy of freedom, of rights for all will work’

help the wayard, lost, they said, even they who shirk,

pressure grew too great, the people cried ‘an end!’

leaders said ‘we promise’, ’twas only pretend

now the seeds of hatred sown in cramped concrete tomb,

grow into blossoming, fiery-angry bloom

lawman has tied his hands, the judge has given in,

the cure is far away, for this british land of sin.


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