“This is Canberra talking
To all of you slaves,
You’re out there working
Toward an early grave.

“Get off the phone
Forget the television,
Go break you back
There’s no time for livin’.
You’re nothing special
So what if you’re tired?
Go break a leg
Or you’ll never get hired.

“Hello there workers
Hello there slaves,
We all hope you die
Well before your day.
For you workers’ rights
Are a feeble wet dream,
The constitution
Just ain’t what it seems.

“The pensioners
Are all only parasites,
Isn’t it about time
That we ended their lives?
Let them cadge bottles
On a dark & lonely street,
Or deliver shopping catalogues
On blistering feet.

“What is this thing
You call democracy?
It seems to us
So very very strange.
It’s beyond our very
Feeble comprehension,
Freedom to the people
Goes against the grain.”