70 Grand And Counting - Poem by Gary Diamond
What do you want, a medal?
I remember you, mr lead singer
Going through the motions
Moaning about your mortgage
Slagging me off and being discontented
Because although I made nothing and waste all my money
I was still a greater example of being human than you.
I don't care about owning a tiny strip of land
With a house on it.
A house to me is somewhere to store my stuff
Sing my songs
And take my shits.
I don't care about having a mid-engined sports car
You do and you think you own the road.
You think because cyclists don't pay tax they can't use it.
While we're at it, why don't we tax people for walking.
And you're a fat piece of shit,
So why don't we tax you more
When you need the national health service?
As far as I can see it you can cram the lot of it
Down your smug, unsatisfied, high-carbon throat
Or up your never-walk-anywhere, never-eat-healthy ass
I know one thing for sure.
Due to the size of your gut and your ego combined
That's a whole lot of cramming.
Drop dead tomorrow.
Do your country a favour.
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