War of the Words

Are you getting ready
Are you ready steady Eddie
Have you placards a plenty
Like a moral sentry

Cos we march against fascism, racism
All kinds bigot-ism
Marching as a white man, lost in a fog of history-ism
Education-ism
Getting rid of the tools to learn
Funeral pyres books to burn

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

We march against fat-ism thin-ism
Lost in a world of consumerism
That makes you buy food to eat
The food to throw away

You say he's fat you say he's queer
Is that your way
Anti-gay
Cos he likes a shandy beer

Not gonna listen
You won't have a say
A fair days dole
For a fair days pay

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

Glasto tickets for those with rickets
Your much too old
Like Wilson Picketts

That's ageism stage-ism
Reunion pension-ism
Too scared to mention-ism
Cos you spunked it all on drugs

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

Modernism student-ism
The need to say we're wrong-ism
But can't walk to school-ism
Because is its abuse to libertarian-ism

Transport or mansport
Or the need to be fed by mum
Need a new phone
One here one for home

That's last week need this week
What you mean it costs money
Go seek that's capitalism anarchism

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

What is which, which is what
Don't crowd me out
Cos I just wanna shout
You're putting me down
As a clown
Cos I wanna wear make up
Its circus-ism my circumcision
Billy smarts on the wailing wall
Antisemitism in the ranks
The labour party will surely fall

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

It's like an ism ism ism
The political prism prism prism
You can no longer learn
Not your books to burn

Overall we live by days
That shows our changing ways
Yet we can't seem to get a grip
Life's about easy street the sugared lick

When we can't cut the meat
Of what makes us fucking tick
So to me it's that you take the piss
It's all about you and the things you do
As life's taking the knocks not the miss
Have the guts to work out the clue
When you haven't the guts to say
Please and thank you