The carpet under whom all is brushed
where secrets are hushed
and truths are mushed
I am the carpet who must be sussed
if you would know what has been lost ó
the hand-shake deals
and inner wheels
are such a steal
youíd never believe the knowledge Iíve got
the boiling pot, the stinking rot, the clever plot
of a president shot from a poor manís squat
and what about the corporate spies
the pies in skies, the media lies?
Distractions from the hunger game
of childrensí cries, itís still the same
revolving doors, accounts off-shore, the rotten core
perpetuating rich and poor
and thatís not all, thereís more and more
not least the reasons for a war.
Remember this: I am the carpet under whom
it all is brushed Ö and - do - you - see - red?
I hope you do, for I am red right through and through
rolled out for bigwigs from a plane
or eco-posing from a train
more usually from a limousine
they step out posh and I protect
the soles of shoes to great effect,
their buff shines on, it wonít get scuffed
or crunching on some grit get roughed
Iím ever-so kind for out of sight is out of mind
I soften the blow
with the world below.