You tell me you're a Socialist
With your Oxbridge degree
A mummy who's a Lecturer
Daddy an eminent Q.C.,
With your £500 jeans
Nearly new sports car
And that type of pushy attitude
That will help you go far.
You preach revolution to
That faithful dedicated few
Who share your attitude of
Do as I say, not as I do.
You know all the theory,
Know just what to say,
Want to run my Party in
Your Upper Middle Class way.
I have stood on the Picket lines
In the cause of workers' rights,
Very few of which were achieved
With out long hard fights.
You say you understand
A situation like mine
But have you worked hard
And still been on the breadline.
Queued half ashamedly
At the local food banks
Holding back the tears
As you mumbled grateful thanks.
Yes, you say you are a Socialist
And I'm sure that you're sincere
But in this life things aren't
Always as they appear.
From an existence of plenty,
Never an enforced fasting day.
It's so very easy to decree
Don't do as I do, just do as I say.
