Can we sit and do nought but stare
As a world about us falls apart?
Morally crumbling and who’s there to care
In societies lacking in social heart.

Busily pursue your own ideals,
And hold together as much as you try,
Without regard for the problems concealed
Under a politician’s stale, plastered smile.

Don’t spend a thought or moment at all
For the racist oppression or wars at hand,
It’s a journalist’s job – not yours at all
To have to decide where you stand.

It’s also their job to keep you informed
Of exactly the little you’re allowed to know.
To bring you news and keep you warned,
To keep you pawns under silent control.