To Be Free

The gilt-edged invitation came

And I said "What can this mean?

To attend the coronation

As the first guest of the Queen

And sit upon her right hand

Where the Prince is normally seen?"

The maids of honour stared at me

And registered surprise

To see a man of such good taste

Appear before their eyes

Now bring rather humble

I adopted a disguise

As the Minister of State

For Mass Environment Controls

Who condemn the working classes

For inhabiting the holes

That belong to Queen and Country

But do not permit their souls

To be free like me.

The perspex chandelier

Began to melt and slip away

One million candle-powered

It kept the night at bay

While the power station workers

Were busy making hay

The workers in the fields

Were engaged in self-defence

Which involved the use of barbed wire

As a self-containing fence

But as a means of self-protection

It was needlessly immense

I stopped to ask them for a light

They pointed at the sun

Which raised their hopes of harvesting

A better crop than guns

Can ever mass produce

At the expense of anyone

Who is free like me.

The solitary peasant

In his home above the lake

Raised high on wooden stilts

Has made the singular mistake

Of revolutionary conduct

At the celebration wake

His urban counterpart

Engaged in mundane occupation

Enjoys the chance of laughing

At the Queen's humiliation

At the hands of Ministers of State

For Rehabilitation

Now the power station worker

Though his aim is too disjointed

Finds himself around the corner

While his gun is never pointed

He is ever at the ready

He desires to be annointed

And be free like me.