MACLAREN TEAR.

MACLAREN TEAR.
sneak.

A New York doll disaster.
My passion still mislaid.
Twenty five years rejected.
A Vicious sneer decayed.

Pissin on her portrait.
Our hate still burns within.
She takes a golden shower -
upon her ageing chin.
Shackled by our ankles -
we drop our underwear.
She will never be amused.
And we will never care.
A full moon in the night sky.
A full moon here on earth.
We bend with low precision -
for all we're fuckin worth.
Pulling moonies for our majesty -
on the golden jubilee.
We show our total disgust -
in all things 'Monarchy'
The futility of reason,
to such as I, is lost.
I light another cigarette -
but fail to count the cost.
Her government health warnings -
will be the death of me.
I read the toxic message...
... but only passively!
We came, we saw, we trembled.
We never saw the light
Apathy for england.
Anarchy lost the fight.
The punks reside in rehab,
shedding Maclaren tears.
A Vivienne Westwood tribute.
Music to my fears.

sneak technique.

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