I walk along the broken streets
Leaping o’er the cracks beneath my feet
Trying to stay on solid ground
But! the money people want to keep me down
By creating their financial earthquakes
Then producing their usual earaches
These are hard times, tighten your belts
Easy; my hungry body is now a starving svelte
One day the rich will come to see
Their wealth will no longer come free
They may have get their hands full of faeces
Cos; the working class is an endangered species
‘Endangered species (Part two) ’
‘The Appeal’
Let’s be truthful
Let’s have some clarity
You’ll have to work hard
Or donate to this charity
It’s not the fault of the working man
That profits are your only drive
Improve the lot of the working person
Or they won’t be the only ones to strive
Improve the economy, create more jobs
Improve the lot of the working class
Redistribute the wealth, give a little to everyone
Or the world as you know it, will come to pass
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem