Description Laissez-Faire
(to the tune of ?The Little Drummer-Girl?)
We?ve hearts and minds the same as yours
But Englishmen don?t care ?
They suck us dry and watch us die
And call it laissez-faire.
Our landlords live in manor houses
All across the isle;
We share lodgings with our pigs
For we?re the rank and file:
We?re rank because we have no pail
From which to drink or bathe;
We file along for Indian Corn,
Then march into the grave.
Negro and Hibernian:
The black man and the pale,
We?re balancing like bits of meat
On the English scale.
They dug out Pitt and coalesced;
Trevelyan and Routh ?
So politely, they declined
To fill an Irish mouth.
They?ll sign us to the Board of Works
To build a useless road,
And as we?re dying, urge us on
To tote another load,
And when our children are all dead,
Demolished every house,
They?ll expect us to subsist
On nettle, weed and mouse.
If famine came to London town
What would the English do?
They?d say that it is fine to starve
So long as it?s not you,
Idolise Free Trade and make
A profit where you can;
Sit inside your country house
And stuff your fellow man.
Lyric by Giles Watson, 2010.
