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When truths don't stick |
Teflon A tail of a Teflon fox, from Fleet Street, so it's said Between its legs, his brush it locks, he fears shades of red Hyenas circle, vultures fly, with edits made in blue, like poppy wreaths from years gone by, cut perfect, landing true Trailing a Teflon knight, a campaign of despair Austerity, a ten year plight, nobody's asking, “where?” Where the spoils of such times, have wound up cause they've not... shored up cracks from former crimes … they're hoping we've forgot The fear of a Teflon clown, lying to a Queen Taking opposition down, with pieces left unseen Pieces taken from the board, removed to pave the way Decals rich, the wealthy hoard, off shore, such games they play The failings of a Teflon man, his surface put to test Running from the things he can, avoiding all the rest His house of cards, a wonky deck, with jokers in the pack, A backhand bung with bonus cheques, … a ballot box, well stacked Through tarot cards, such Teflon sings, with warnings of dark men Tales of the doom they'd bring, to the halls of number ten with peasants' colours screaming loud, Green... Yellow... Crimson Red Inside a fridge, schemes disavowed …hanging by a thread This portrait of a Teflon man, a shaggy haired buffoon, with wealthy friends and shady plans, a sinister cartoon A jester seizing hold of courts, once formerly allied Disregarding battles fought, with rights earned, cast aside A tale of a Teflon king, ascended to a throne Questions answered?... not his thing, “He'll get it done”... alone Who needs questions? Truth confines, … who needs an expert's light? with lies housed dark, between broad lines … hiding in plain sight |