Propaganda and the soul

 From the prophets on awkward sands

To the last man plucking heaven with his blackened hands

Teaching the proletariat from radio waves to dream of what you can

To never let the spirit wane 

A stoic in its city or at least a man

Turn the channel to classic fm

Teach the child to love today and tomorrow to plan

Never to be tainted by the chuckling clown

To defeat the thieves of the heart of this town

A man teaching man about man

Working in the fields hard labour at hand 

The socialist and communist propogating ideas for a million pounds

Hours spent reminding man of his fellow lost man 

A million dollars painted in a fake and plastic can 

Now said time is rolling keep up u have fallen far behind