Poets Are Owed A Living

Since Blairmerica, jobseeker's 
frills ain't been allowed.
My plasma screen no opioid 
to the baying crowd.
Government's Queen Hel, 
one ambrosial tit;
my own mother's milk 
was Nutter's Nesquik.
But I always wore nice pair 
of Nike Air Child Benefits.
The 3rd World War will be fought
instant they stop my Income Support.
The Union Jack won't be my blanket
on a green and pleasant embankment.

What exactly is it you want, John?
I only wish the benefits system loved me like I love it.

Tell Scameron & Tossbourne 
heating and eating 
can't compete with a green ounce
on Joyseeker's Allow-ounce.
Disappointed in our kids, 
their work ethic's 996
- when I were a lad I wore 
Air Max Tax Credits!
Coz being on the dole 
is cushty for the soul.
There's a K in the House of Lords if you
gimme a swig of your meth.
There's a P in the House of Lords if you
gimme a swig of your meths.

What exactly is it you want, John?
I only wish the benefits system loved me like I love it.

Marry me, we'll live in shit, Mrs.Iain Duncan Smith.
Marry me, twos on that spliff, Mrs. Iain Duncan Smith.
Marry me and our kids will aspire to fucking shit.
Marry me and for tea we will have broken biscuits.
Marry me, we will live like Smiths, Mrs. Iain Duncan Shit.
Marry me, we'll live in shit.