Empire lament.

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We Separated in 98, remember?
I want a divorce, right now!
Your wavering face flies the flag
of arrogance, conformity and lies
on the black colony rock


to your right, a passion play
the thunder drum echoes of clan Wallace
around the Scott standing stone
to your left, windup shortbread man
Piper Macfake, all tartan an nae knickers


Sickly sweet Robbie clone drones
mime some karaoke anthem on the garden stage
in the land that taste forgot
shitpop force fed in the name of art
on the street where the burger is king


your empire ego swells and over flows
in a flood of shallow gestures,
an arranged marriage and the years
of bitter tears and drowned hopes
leave me scarred but reborn


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