The
Sixties were a time of hope,
As
people did naively grope
For
something better than the past,
Nailing
red colours to the mast:
Not
seeing the frosty feet of clay,
The
underlying brutality.
The
Soviet Union was a con,
Yet where are we now it's gone?
The
thuggish greedheads range full free
And
force the people to their knees.
No
ideas challenge them today,
No
fear to curb their self belief.
The
worship of the Golden Calf
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