Satellite of Liberty

‘Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’

Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island


Satellite of Liberty

Give us your Pakis and give us your Poles.
Give us your spastics, your cripples, your proles.

Give us your faggots kissing on the street,
the things that scare you, everyone you meet.

Give us your sluts who want women’s rights,
give us these problems to make Britannia bright.

Give us working class heroes dressed up as scum,
give us muslamic ray guns that might scare your mum.

Give us the racists whose voice you won’t meet,
and give us the nigger gunned down in the street

Give us brown skinned huddled masses yearning to breed,
give us blood sucking scroungers regardless of creed.

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
give them to us so you can worry no more.

Send us the fear that sits in your heart
and know that wir humanities are never far apart,

For the drowning children escaping war,
we lift our lamp beside the golden door!

To the sneering politicians holding a beer,
with a clenched fist we say,


By Paul Gibson

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