They live and they earn
Is that all that it’s worth?
Will they ever learn? Nope.
Entitled from birth

There’s nothing to mourn
But a sheer sense of pity
The rich reap and yawn
While consuming The City

Their Cabinet shelf
Never knows a true home
Only money and wealth
So don’t ever you moan

In Common there’s nothing
Not House nor salary
They’ll smile while bluffing
A fabricated analogy

They’re out of touch
Like Savile’s fingers
They let him off the hook
But his smoke still lingers

You don’t really matter
Just a vote in the ballot
They’ll eat and get fatter
While criticising your palate.