Sensational headlines grab your attention,

To cynically alter your comprehension.

Read this. You have to agree,

With truth distorted, a zeitgeist is bred,

That our prejudices are supported, spread

By another patronised devotee.


Making a meal of negativity with zeal,

Force fed; a daily diet of their cultural ideal.

They’ll victimise and demonise

The poor, ill, foreign, uncommon and new,

All in the feint vein, you’ll surmise;

With your money, to propagate their view.


For once an event that suggests hope.

Well, we can do without spin for a day.

Tomorrow it’ll be discarded. Old rope,

Back to the usual – that they see it our way.

The wars, terrorism, natural disasters, famine,

Obviously aren’t our fault, okay?

Be thankful, without us and them,

You wouldn’t have nuffink to talk `bout today.


What good is your imagination?

When you can be willingly immersed

By saturation and regurgitation?

Impartiality and factuality are reversed,

To create dismal scandals and sleeze.

Watch as we besiege another celebrity,

To satisfy the populous craving for vulgarity.

We’re just here to please, you’re the disease.


But occasionally their ghastly invective

Can create a moralised collective,

Who challenges them with tenacity.

The press? Apologise? No fuckin way.

‘Freedom’ means we have the final say.

Then they have the temerity

To say; someone else is at fault

For progress grinding to a halt.


Either way they’ve achieved the main play;

That their importance doesn’t decay.

Their inane outrage is always staged,

To augment a resentful anxiety.

Discarded. The daily conduit wastes away,

Sadly, its content still holds sway.

It keeps their readership caged,

As a simmering nadir of society.


But something can be done,

About how these rags are run.

Tell them they no longer speak for us,

Remember those who suffered injustice.

So Boycott the Daily Mail and The Sun,

Because it’s for the good of everyone.


About Wichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard

Wichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard. 'Mediocre blogger and a piously boring and unfunny writer'. Enthusiastic purveyor of the KLF sheep.
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