The riots made Tories of us all,
As the telly spread its version of the truth.
We worried about that game of football,
Called off while scumbags smash and grab.
Scumbags all (except that rich man's daughter).
Deploy the rubber bullets and cannon
That fires water. Take them to the slaughter.
Show them just how much they're privileged.
Social media - Facebook, Twitter.
We'll catch them by their hi-tech tools,
Parents evicted from their council shitter.
That'll solve the problem, make them pay.
Remotely watching, the remote control
Held ready for the quick switch over
When bored with talk about their goal
Looting all those High Street shops.
Marks and Spencers, Boots and Currys.
However will they survive this hit
To the paltry millions they make in money?
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We had proper riots when I were a lad.
Something to say, something to fight for.
These youngsters have everything I never had,
Like mobile phones, Sky and designer threads.
But no jobs,
No future,
No hope.
Some things never change.
The riots made Tories of us all.
God help us.
