One, two, one, two, three,
four
Things were rather different
in great grandfather's day
He just put a chain around their ankles
and made them work for no pay
He took everything they owned
and yet still demanded more
He did a bloody good job
in taming the poor
Now I'm rather more subtle, I say,
I'll tell you what I will do
I'll do everything I can to try and help you
And you'll be helping me, I say,
and I'll see that you're alright
You can have a place of your own,
you can even pretend to be white
And you won't have to worry,
I'll have a quiet word with your mates
Oh they'll be alright,
they'll have enough on their plate
I'll put a bit in their mouths,
you just pull hard on the reins
They'll do anything for you and
they won't complain
You'll be so much better off, I say,
you can share my paradise
Just sign my piece of paper
and I'll organize your life
And it never fails, it does the trick,
it works every time
So me and my dear wife and
the family's doing fine
Great granddad got his dukedom
when slavery was abolished
Dear old dad became a viscount
when the Empire was finished
But times have changed
for the better
with freedom of choice
We're a thousand times richer,
QED His Master's Voice
A dog stares into a gramophone trumpet,
waits for its call to action
Mute and obedient, standing to attention
Look a little closer,
the dog is a woman
She's working under a system that
she can't understand
Trapped inside a world of labor and heat
So that she and her children
will be able to eat
The trumpet is patriarchy, it's
old and fixed
Where poor men are lured
by desire to be rich
Where the limited power is
still given to men
Where development aid is
so wastefully spent
Where western education
enforces this crap
Where women work in the open,
yet live in a trap
There's one solution, and this is it
The dog leaps on the gramo
phone and has a shit