Monday, 10 November 2003

All Hail The Ford

His armies encircle the world,
his minions control the gold.
Scared little men in grey little suits
Modern day demons
and snakes dressed like Santa.

The adverts insipid
their message is putrid.
They seek to control
they take aim for your soul.
Their weapon is The Box
their ammunition is you.

Your heart and your soul
your dreams and your love.
They'll take it away
they'll replace it with fear.
You're not good enough!
You must listen to them!
They'll make it all better,
just sell them your soul.

The spam and the jams
a testament to Smith.
All Hail! The Ford
and the riches he brings.

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