Here's to the State of Mr. Poodle

Here's to the State of Mr. Poodle

Here's to the state of Mr. Poodle

where unemployment's falling as the prison numbers rise

and your job is going overseas but the army's door is wide

and he calls it "meritocracy" but wears an old-school tie

and the working class is drowning in a politician's lies

Oh, here's to the land you've torn out of the heart of

Mr. Poodle find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the schools of Mr. Poodle

Where six year olds are tested if they can read and write

examined like a product upon a factory line

Yet reading is a leisure and tests a waste of time

unless you need statistics for a blatant philistine

Oh, here's to the land you've torn out of the heart of

Mr. Poodle, find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the laws of Mr. Poodle

where old men stand in judgment of teenagers in care

despite the former's ignorance of the latter's deep despair

and the victim's getting punished while the criminal's elsewhere

For it's the king and not the pawns who makes a judgment fair

Oh, here's to the land you've torn out of the heart of

Mr. Poodle, find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the churches of Mr. Poodle

where the cross once made of silver now is caked with rust

and the Sunday morning sermon just hides the father's lust

and the fallen face of Jesus has settled in the dust

and heaven only knows in which god Mr. Poodle trusts

Oh, here's to the land you've torn out of the heart of

Mr. Poodle, find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the government of Mr. Poodle (and Mr. Rumsfeld)

where the leader is the ruler and ought to wear a crown

directing all the policies right from the top straight down

yet I can't help but wonder from which voice comes the sound

when the speeches of our leader are the ravings of a clown

Oh, here's to the land you've torn out of the heart of

Mr. Poodle, find yourself another country to be part of