They come over here
And take our jobs!
Why do people not think
Before they open their gobs?
Who do you think
Picks the fruit
That ends up in your market square
Or tarmac the roads
For deliveries to get there?
Who cleans the trains
Morning, noon and night
Only for you to dump more rubbish
Cos you don't give a shite?
It's never a honkie
English born
It's always those bloody foreigners
Trying to earn their corn.
Who is who takes three cleaning jobs
Just to have a roof over their head
Skivvying around
Where you wouldn't be seen dead?
It's those nasty immigrants
Enough is enough!
But how can that be true
As you find their jobs too tough?
If I were my own boss
I'd hire a foreign Pole
Rather than a lazy racist Jeremy Kyle wannabe
Sat on the dole.
It's immigration
That makes London tick
Albeit helping the Tory & UKIP boys
To get rich quick.
They don't actually believe
The racist shit they say
Because it's those bloody immigrants
That work hard for low pay.
Cash in hand making it tax free
The rich ruling classes
Raping their own economy.
Where would they be
Without their Philipino maid
A legalised version
Of the old slave trade.
Double standards
From the ruling classes
Who bullshit drips down
To our feckless on their arses!
Dulwich Poet 25th March 2014
(I wrote this in response to the Lib-Dem Nick Clegg having a live radio debate with Nigal Farage, of UKIP, on the radio, about europe...but in reality..immigration)
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