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Discontent cover.jpg

Sick of being poor

Pushing forty can't afford

To buy a roof and four walls

Dreaming impossible dreams

The one where I can live inside my means

But my means leave me feeling worthless digging my own grave with them on my back

At your beck and call

Wishing for some kind of pay back


Forced into the welfare system

Turn your nose up at me judging my vision

I'm doing all I can to turn this ship around

While men in their suits sip drinks and talk as if they know to other men in gowns

Cutting from the bottom and piling it up top

The system is a glorified toupee

Comb it over cover the bald spots

No one will care about the piles of bodies rising in high rises

Property prices going sky high and

Banks relieved of high levy taxes


But you're screwed by the system

As soon as you're in it

Trapped and funnelled into a jobless (dream killing) meat market

Telling me to get a job won't fix it

I work ninety hours a week and barely earn a biscuit

While everyone around me is getting paid

My hourly rate is less than a 50s milk maid

I'd be fooling myself if I thought you cared

That I'm spreading myself thinner to make sure no one's spared


Pushing your agenda

Pulling out of unions that benefit ya

Empty shelves and economy crashes

Got them Speed buying Christmas like its toilet roll stashes

Rolling on from one disaster to the next

Without cracking a sweat or thinking about the consequence


Leaving us feeling like scum

Lower than low

Hopeless worthless raga bone

But I gotta fit in to the ideals that are forced around my neck

Pushed down my throat

To keep my children well enough fed

I gotta choke on the reality of these choices

And the consequences of all the actions

Galloping over me like horses

Ridden by the toffee nosed

Privileged in blue

With no idea how to make it work

For the best for me and you

Breeding greed and selfish ambition

Got me thinking if I had a few million

I wouldn't want your filthy paws on it

Clawing away and taking my earnings

To spray up the wall on your Manor house furnishings

We'd end up sharing some offshore tax haven loop

dodge the bullet of the mess you've made with your bumbling office of buffoons

While you watch us burn from a yacht bobbing on a sea of discontent

We'll be sinking on this climate changed planet living in tents paying your pyramid scheme taxes

Until its teeth and nails in this bullshit praxis


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