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