Hypocritamus

Hypocritamus bitter aftertaste on the cochlea when from the stereo grated the four syllables socialism nausea stirred in the bones so many years ago “we ain’t givin them our hard earned cash no sir! we’d rather pay our own way, let them pay theirs” the toilets were always clean the streets swept they worked for just enough to pay and pay whispers in the ghettos said “stop! we know where you’ll get a better job you’ll pay your way and then some” bitter aftertaste on the cochlea when from the stereo grated the four syllables immigration nausea stirred in the bones so many years ago “we ain’t lettin them into our state no sir! we’d rather give the jobs to our own, mind ourselves” the toilets were not clean the streets not swept no one to lower themselves to pay and pay so instead they put out their hands grew fat and smiled for favours