Johnson and Rees-Mogg
Won’t be happy
Until we are dogs
Until social democracy
Is long gone
And we are their dogs
Fetching the kill
From their glorious hunt
And happy with a pat
On the head
And a dog’s dinner
Desperate to please
Delighted to be teased
Overjoyed to be worked
To the heart-pounding bone
For nothing but a treat
And a blanket in the barn
Johnson and Rees-Mogg
Won’t be happy
Until we are dogs
Until social democracy
Is long gone
And we are their dogs
Fetching the kill
From their glorious hunt
Wretches whose only thrill
Is attacking other dogs
In dark-lit alleys
As our masters laugh
And drink and punt the money
We slaved for them to throw
On us to kill or be killed
Pitiful hopeless cunt after cunt
Johnson and Rees-Mogg
Won’t be happy
Until we are dogs
Until social democracy
Is long gone
And we are their dogs
Fetching the kill
From their glorious hunt
No longer understanding
The language they speak
But ecstatic if they approve
Of us in any way- ‘good boys!
Good girls!’ a finger through the curls
Utterly oblivious to the new routine
Which means in the event
Of any illness or unrest
It’s a bullet in the head
And tomorrow’s pig-swill at best