My carpets are threadbare!
Screamed the queen in despair
Especially the stairs
Where my heir goes to gloat
In the turret above the moat
In reality a cordon of policemen
Protecting the corrosion
That besets the nation
My carpets are bare
And there's none to fix my hair!
She cried, ever since
Immigrants were sent
Back where they belong
In some cell or another
Or tower block overlooking nothing
In some destitute land, devoid of dignity
Tax them more! thundered the politicians
Her carpet's threadbare!
And we cannot blame immigration
Because we sent them all 'home'
So tax our population
To pay for the people's carpet
That leads to the toilet
From where we benefit
From the attention
Dropped
From
Above
for Magpie Tales
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