"Uncanny Yes-Men

Uncanny Yes -Men
By Marcus Cooke And Tom Quinton

Eye to the sky
only say no when you die
wanker bankers
say yes then leave
you high and dry.
yes men smile
the fat cats gloat
i bet they feel snug
in a double fur lined coat.
MP'S pocket a pay rise
recommended by a independent body
the yes men strike again
fucking over everybody
Where yes means no
and no means maybe
where corrupt politicians
lick your ass and kiss
your baby's
The uncanny yes men
have a x-factor for
corruption
which ticks the boxes
and satisfy our assumption.
with there three piece suits
nicely cleaned and pressed
behind closed doors
table dancing
wearing suspenders
and a frilly dress
being a bastard
must be hereditary
after getting
sucked off by
the government
and your teenage secretary
yes men spend
our money and write
blank checks
reveling in power
indulging in there
king Midas complex
Coked to the eyeballs
With a noose around his neck
Stocks start to plummet
As he hits the deck
He swings from Tower Bridge
Like a fat cat on a string
The river Thames sheds a tear
for the financial sin
He's just another tooth pick
Of this economic decay
Power and greed
It led him astray
Shit and piss rolls down
His cold stiff legs
It falls towards a tug boat
Lands on the captains head
The sun sets in the city
A street sweeper
Brushes his blues away
The financial district
Lives to fight another day
The smell of corruption
lingers in the air
The uncanny yes man disconnected
to selfish to care
Suited and booted
Their sly as a fox
With fistful of dollars
While the poor sleep in a box
The system will fail
The stock exchange will crash
Then one day they'll realize
You can't eat cash.