When you bite the hand that feeds you
J. the brat had a long silver spoon
And was eaten by envy and greed
His baby face and voice so soft
Made it easy for him to deceive
This shallow man without compassion
had money from mummy and pop
it expressed thro him a tyranny
which proved too hard to stop.
No one knew what happened
You couldn’t see the source
Compatible energies blended
By some magnetic force.
The ghosts of convicts on the hill
Seeped through the market floor
Driving out the good folk
Til there were no more.
Many felt the evil air
And wondered what took place
The laughter of a yesteryear
Became a nameless face.
The townsfolk showed their discontent
By staying well away
The place has lost its soul
Is all they had to say.
I will fix this when I can
The old mayor once lamented
Proving what they all had thought -
That he was quite demented.
A rally in the market square
Cried out with cheers and bells
Something’s wrong in city hall
Something really smells
Bureaucracy – a wimpy lot
Hid behind their writs
Cowering in closets
A bunch of feeble twits
Good men fought until they fell
Hearts were torn away
Karma spoke with justice
“I will have my day!”
What’s happened to my cash cow?
J-boy knits a frown
He didn’t even notice
When it all fell down
I demand some loyalty
I demand respect
What was he ever thinking?
What did he expect?
If you bite the hand that feeds you
You lose much more than money
A man can lose himself as well
Isn’t life too funny?
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Labels: sonya greens blog
posted by Editor at 7:22 AM
2 Comments:
Annonymous submitted this offline and suggests you sing along to the tune of Sounds of Silence.
Hello empty market my old friend
I’ve come to raise the rent again
Because a nightmare swif-tly creeping
Wears a dress and she will be keeping
All the damage, she has planted in my brain
Still remains
Market sounds of silence
In empty stalls I walk alone
All the tenants have moved on
Terminations have proved wrong
Stalls are sel-ling for a song
Except of course, unless, you are the coffee girl
She sold real well
Everywhere the sounds of silence
And in the weekend light I saw
Fifteen people, maybe more
People looking without buying
People laughing till they’re crying
People los-ing stalls that were all they had in life
And yet I still dare
To keep the sounds of silence
Fools say I do not know
But like a cancer I grow and grow
Hear my words that I will ruin you
Raise the rent then out I kick you
And my words like acid raindrops fall
And echoed
In a world of silence
And the people pack and go away
We have a list to fill this market is what I say
A mar-kets that is soul-less and boring
An empty mar-ket we are forming
And the signs all around we are poor communicators and managers of these ailing markets
That were the best
And whispers in the market of silence
It can be summed up in a word..."stained". Stain on old Freo Mayor Tags and his CEO's office.
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