Welcome to your bursary, son,
Take in the panoramic view,
This once green and pleasant land,
All this shit belongs to you!
Concrete towers, dull and gray,
Derelict and unemployed,
Abandoned to the elements,
To stand alone like you, my boy!
Cede your right to an honest living,
There's cheaper labor in the line,
You are surplus to demand, my lad,
No job for you, but never mind!
The army's open and their soup's ready,
Get in line to warm your cockles,
Donate the pittance from your pocket,
And they'll give you soup to suckle!
Enjoy the feast, it's yours to savor,
Say a grace to nourishment,
Be thankful for the charity,
As gifted by your government!
Handouts, payouts, beggars banquets,
Wine and dine on fortified,
Desperate times call desperate measures,
You can whine and you can moan,
But no one listens to your gripes,
Say goodbye to rule Britannia,
Depravity waits, step inside!
It seems all your morals have been,
Perverted by corruption,
To pave the Whitehall streets with gold,
Through working class usurpation!
They'll steal away your meager income,
And say it's for your nation's health,
They'll feed you with their propaganda,
Then use your cash to feed themselves!
Be proud my son, this land is yours,
Plow it, sow it, harvest it,
Then sell your spoils for the highest price,
Before another policy taxes it!
So fly your flag to Britain's glory,
It's the patriotic thing to do,
And with stiff upper lip, you can bite the bullet.
Be brave young man, you'll make it through!