| So drawn? |
| I warm to the fire in their hearts
|
| This ain’t romantic gesturing
|
| It’s a hand to head the charge
|
| To the indifference of the preening, idle rich
|
| Such champions are cancerous, tumours in the gut
|
| of affluent bliss
|
| Why let these scab observers tag them trouble-makers?
|
| It’s naive? |
| You’re on a leash.
|
| This is the cure for their common complaint
|
| Ditch the gullibility
|
| Strike 'til the green runs dry
|
| bring them to their knees
|
| Or squander as they thrive
|
| Reject the cure for their common complaint
|
| On break,
|
| Agitate!
|
| Hoist those standards, arm in arm
|
| Walk the walk and talk the talk
|
| Agitate! |
| Agitate! |
| Agitate! |