I Protest
When poor little rich kids become blazing mad,
Their way to rebel, to get back at mum and dad,
Is to seek out grand causes, the flimsiest of covers,
To mask they are really pissed-off with their mothers.
They recruit and deploy an army of proles,
Sacrificial pawns to help them achieve their goals.
And when they grow older, becoming more mature,
They’ll inherit the kingdom, leaving us in the manu . . . shit.