Ideology

You pull the wool over our eyes,
playing the charade for fun,
thikingg us fools.

The rich, the poor, we are all one,
you tell us we’re not tools -
your charm sticky as a Kitchener Bun

Once, you would have called for duty
For Empire   For Nation.
Now you feign concern and manufacture pity
for the poor. 

Growth hasn’t brought salvation
it never will while you own the city’s
minds, manipulating the familiar.

The truth can lie - it can be Orwellian.
We're not the USSR but the free world,
where you too can own tired consumer cliches.

I'm tired, tired of your lies, lies so bare
of integrity. 
The masses acquiesce, 
feeding on the opiate Marx couldn’t see.

Even a bowl of shit is better than no meal at all.

Now where?