Days Like These

It don't matter how they win, just as long as they win it
It's not the lie you believe, it's what you hear when they spin it
We'd be out of this hole if you'd thought for just a minute
Through your blue clown's shoe with a bullet hole in it

It's a paradox of Socrates
That "No-one does wrong knowingly"
Your pencilled cross gave up the keys
To sell me out, and those like me
To bring in an autocracy
And infect our lives with a blue disease
Now we're fighting through days like these
With broken hands and bandaged knees

Poverty, and homeless rates, and division of the classes
Systematic underfunding, and still you sharp suits pay no taxes
Still, you've chosen where you dance, it just depends how green your grass is
And you'll tango through the streets whilst you burn down your own houses
Twisting knives through shattered lives, their rhetoric creates this
Sliding doors give open floors to institutional racists
Spit the poison to the wind, my friend I'm afraid it's
Your vote that gave the power to the spiteful and the hated

Disparity brings charity for the weakened and diminished
Hope has died, but still supplies the foodbank in your village
Don't close your ears or hide your eyes, my lesson isn't finished
Does morbid lust for sorrow make you proud that you are British

It's a paradox of Socrates
That "No-one does wrong knowingly"
Your pencilled cross gave up the key
To sell me out, and those like me
To bring in an autocracy
And infect our lives with a blue disease
Now we're fighting through days like these

We're all in this together