Bricksit.

 
They built a huge silver dragon,
in the High street,
full of Euro shops and charities;
cold run the snow,
that wasn't there.
 
The barren woman,
with no teeth,
said "we don't want no visitors"
and then apologized;
the dogs barked when Auntie came to visit.
 
In the arts centre,
that replaced the Worker's Arms,
the school children in the new school,
looked fit and took no notice,
my wallet lay untouched by the window.
 
An old man neatly shaved,
put a quarter shot of whiskey,
in a white paper bag
and ate it 'till the blood ran.
 
When they want cannon fodder again,
to repel the invader with a bayonet,
their will be full employment
and steel will be king.

~