Economics of the Madhouse
Economics of the madhouse
I've run out of fags.
'Ooh he's got chocolate.'
Someone's stolen my rags.
My clothes they stink a lot.
This building is Victorian.
The guard ain't Praetorian.
The legal basis draconian.
I committed no crime.
But I must do time.
Four weeks.
In a building that leaks.
If I was a crook.
They would give me a book.
They just don't give a fuck.
This is what I get for the taxes they took.
Ewan Povey