22. Bread and Water

Uncle Simon
Sippin' on the mellow yella
Dancing on the grave
Of another fella.
Once-a-love-ri-val.
His carboard cat
Sitting in a velvet hat
Yawning to the sun.
Getting too fat.
On-cur-rant-buns.

Old man Jones
Sitting alone at home
In his chair
A plasticine dome.
He-don't-care.
He swears at the strangers
Immediately in danger
Of his will
But once he wagered
That-he'd-nev-er-be-ill.

But the state of mind
Is a hard nail to bite
When you've been on bread and water.
Like a moth to a flame
No one's to blame.
We're all like lambs to the slaughter.

The Chinese deal
That provides our meals
Is slowly going
The way of the Heel
We-shall-soon-be-gone.
The slaves of the nation
Shall listen to this station
And proclaim
National starvation.
Ain't-it-a-shame.

The powers that be
Can never see
The role they are to play
But we pay the fee
For-the-war-they-wage.
Who asked us
For the trust
Shown in the new breed.
Let's let them rust
While-they-try-to-feed-in-the-rain.

But the state of mind
Is a hard nail to bite
When you've been on bread and water.
Like a moth to a flame
No one's to blame.
We're all like lambs to the slaughter.