From pestilential Davos- Man,
This yearly helicoptering in,
Of those who made this mess we’re in;
Reprising hypocritic sorrows
That for the poor it’s ‘jam tomorrows’;
While hymning fat-cat Martin Sorrell’s
“They know WE’RE worth it” pseudo morals.
Whose World is it this rich man’s quorum
Dare name ‘WORLD’ Economic Forum ?
Where are the women who’d connive
To keep such sexist fakes alive ?
How many cocktail hours elapse
Before their obscene earnings gaps
Stir to some late reluctant action
This self-indulgent feckless faction ?
Grant, if you will, we lesser-fry
Who pay their bills to question why ?
To have in mind when next we’re voting
This nauseous cosying and doting;
Where spineless politicians greet
Their self-styled corporate elite;
Pre-groomed for peak-time camera focus,
On clouds of PR hocus-pocus.
Above all, may it be Thy wish
To raise, above their gibberish,
Those richer voices, dimmed of late,
Who want their World back, and it’s fate;
So other kids may go to bed
Well- fed with, ringing in their head,
Stories of how an old god winked,
Pronouncing Davos-Man extinct.