We only handle so much truth

We only handle so much truth

Before we label those ‘uncouth’

Who seek to widen views on wealth

And worry on the planet’s health.

We block our ears, avert our eyes

And fill the broadcast slots with lies

– With pretty tales of golden times –

To stop us seeing earthly crimes.

And little pigs will dance and squeal

And tell you how you’re meant to feel

As all the assets of the farm

Are sent to hell, and you to harm.