'' You've Got To Be Rotten '' Poem by Bri Mar

Politicians tell lies,
Their ways we despise,
Of false promises, we tend to take note,
What one says the other denies,
So why in Gods name do we vote.

It's not a riddle,
We know they fiddle,
Yet still we give them our trust,
While they steal our thumbs we twiddle,
Democracy my friends is unjust.

Manifestos pray tell,
Leave a nasty smell,
Fact is they were made to derange,
After they've won we can go to hell,
Everything they've promised they'll change.

It's all a game,
They don't accept blame,
It was caused by those arseholes before,
None of them know the meaning of shame,
Self-interest remains to the fore.

The increase in debt,
We're told not to fret,
They have everything under control,
Belief in their lies you know you'll regret,
To Satan they've all sold their soul.

Regardless of where,
There's none of them care,
Once elected you'll soon be forgotten,
An honest politician is exceedingly rare,
To become one,

‘' You've Got To Be Rotten ‘'