Very soon the middling sort
Will rise against your arrogance
As we have done before:
Your fifth form economics,
Your bike-shed sniggering at the poor,
Your gradgrind education,
Founded on some mystic lore.
You believe your own ill-found
Stupidities. And now there’s more;
You want to break the very things
We’ve worked a life-time for.
Poke the British lion and you
Will hear a muted British roar,
But be careful if you rouse the beast
Better scramble for the door
Be thankful we don’t bite off the heads
Of traitors any more.