The Chancellor

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Anarchophy

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Just like other Budget days, the pantomime begins 
The chancellor's red briefcase hides such misery within 
He holds it up and bears a smile that's dead behind the eyes 
He knows the numbers represent real people with real lives 
But also knows that that's the job - the subtle sleight of hand 
To give away enough that most don't recognise the scam 
Take from the poor to feed the rich tax breaks and incentives 
Praised by the press, the same each year: his theft is inventive 
So deft is he at selling us a path to poverty 
That few will stop to question austerity's validity 
The same old Trickle Down approach that didn't work before 
The same old welfare for the rich whilst stealing from the poor 
The same old pull your socks up and freeloaders can f*ck off 
While subsidizing industries and covering corporate loss 
And what's another cut to those who just refuse to work? 
Another pound or ten reduced - it isn't gonna hurt 
Think of where that money could be much better applied 
So what if it increases disabled suicides 
It may have been the income on which they may have once survived 
But business has demands and those demands must be supplied 
So watch as once again we raid upon the public purse 
When things are already this bad we barely notice when they're worse 
Darwin economics it's survival of the fittest 
And poverty will kill you when you're governed by the richest 

And I don't know 
What we're doing here 
I don't know 
When civilisation disappeared 
I don't know 
What we're doing here 

The chancellor does sleep at night next door to number ten 
Tucked far away from consequence he brought on by his pen 
His wrought iron gates are guarded by the cops he underpaid 
His head upon the pillow he rests tired from the day 
He doesn't hear the sound of those who have got nothing left to eat 
Of pensioners freezing to death who can't afford their heat 
Of unemployed begging for work as bosses count their profits 
Of those relying on welfare being told that they're now off it 
He doesn't hear the screams of those denied more social housing 
And if he did the dirty sod would likely find the screams arousing 
Instead he dreams of mansions and the parties he attends 
The lobbyists who tell him to increase their dividends 
The luxury and opulence to which he's grown accustomed 
The Masters of the Universe who groomed him and who trust him 
To show the population what's best for them is best for business
Convince the citizens there is no other way to fix this 
The experts all agree that we all have to make these savings 
At least the experts we've employed; the ones that we are paying 
He doesn't have to listen to the sobs of a statistic 
Just the price of doing business in a world so capitalistic 

And I don't know 
What we're doing here 
I don't know 
When civilisation disappeared 
I don't know 
What we're doing here 

The media delights in the chancellor's deceptions 
Headline grabbing sound-bites getting all of their attention 
Even while acknowledging that they are being played 
It's like they cannot help themselves from joining the charade 
Repeating propaganda on every TV station 
Willingly participants in our manipulation 
Ideology being passed off as consensus 
With no alternative proposed the spin is just relentless 
Economic forecast reported as if its fact 
On eggshells as to how the global markets may react 
Disavowing culpability for what's ancestral 
Lives are being ruined while they cite the cost of petrol 
A penny off a pint of beer; the chancellor's a hero 
"Thou shalt opiate the proles": the chancellor's solemn credo 
Schools and hospitals won't have the funds to serve our needs 
And they shut down all the libraries cuz it doesn't pay to read 
And they lowered all the wages and they carved away the pensions 
But none of this is will linger in the public conversation 
Because we'd rather blame the Budget on the poor or immigration 
Than acknowledge that the Chancellor embezzled the whole nation 

And I don't know 
What we're doing here 
I don't know 
When civilisation disappeared

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