The neighbours are Nepalese, next door to them are Congolese

The suburb’s full of refugees, it simply doesn’t cut the cheese

I wish I could be rid of these, I’m pretty sure they bring disease

The government pays for their lease, gives them whatever they please

Ten more arrive when one’s deceased, I would like to call police

On the train I get no peace, I can’t understand a word they speak

The food they eat it fucking reeks, I haven’t seen an Aussie for weeks

They dress like Ninjas, wearing sheets, It’s a joyous thing our leaders Tweet

Doesn’t matter they’re all dole cheats, thieving bastards, gangster peeps

In the laneway drunk they’re taking leaks, while my mum she gently weeps

A plane arrives, unloading heaps, of coloured folks whose votes they seek

They wag their fingers and they bleat, about the ends they cannot meet

It’s our fault, so they say, but all the same they choose to stay, and more arrive every day, it’s worth my job if I complain, the whole western world has gone insane,

Go to church to God to pray, but a mosque is in the way, a Sikh temple is in its stead, the local council is all red, 50 migrants in a shed, sharing a single bed, the answer is simple and made of lead, man and dog now legally wed

The sinners are saints and saints are sinners, there are no losers only winners

The local shop sells halal dinners, no alcohol but heaps of pingas, all their men look like gorillas, in the old world they were all killers, brought to enrich our culture, to change us from our civilized ways, to lift us out of virtue’s squalor, and the best thing is we get to pay

Best that we do not offend, offer insult, or defend, against this global trend, that aims to bring about our end

The sickest thing that I cannot see, there’s nowhere they can even send me

Rome is full of migrants fleeing, from some or other pretend regime, not a word from the Queen, who lives her life in a museum, French cities burn because of race, it’s no longer Napoleon’s resting place, and Canada’s PM is off his face, there is nothing left, not a minute trace, of what once made our people great, until the masses stormed the gates, spiking global interest rates

It’s best to just bend with the breeze, welcome more Vietnamese, black lives matter we flex our knees, as the balance shifts by a thousand degrees, west to east and way down south, now we’re living hand to mouth, locked down because of China Flu, who’s to blame, what can you do?

About Author

Ray Cyst

See author's posts