Jones and Laws are local radio shock-jocks. Large frogs in a small pool, so I suppose not known out there in the wider world.
Lambs of some other God
I love a redneck country
A land of Jones and Laws
Inspiring mass mediocrity
Chanting three bags full sir lies.
I live in a stolen country
One taken at point of sword
Its owners reduced now to penury
Their modest needs ignored.
I see a dog-in-a-manger country
Deny desperate strangers a home
While its owners weeping in sympathy
Wonder what hell their land has become.
I cringe in a laughing-stock country
Food for any mad predator’s cause
Ruled by cretins complacently
Flocked to fight other fools’ wars.
I spit on my dumbed-down country
Woolly-brained, blind to light, half asleep
Fenced in by moronic hypocrisy
Vainly searching for Little Bo Peep.
Lambs of some other God
I love a redneck country
A land of Jones and Laws
Inspiring mass mediocrity
Chanting three bags full sir lies.
I live in a stolen country
One taken at point of sword
Its owners reduced now to penury
Their modest needs ignored.
I see a dog-in-a-manger country
Deny desperate strangers a home
While its owners weeping in sympathy
Wonder what hell their land has become.
I cringe in a laughing-stock country
Food for any mad predator’s cause
Ruled by cretins complacently
Flocked to fight other fools’ wars.
I spit on my dumbed-down country
Woolly-brained, blind to light, half asleep
Fenced in by moronic hypocrisy
Vainly searching for Little Bo Peep.