The Day Of Unrest
There ain't enough of strikes an' things,
There ain't enough of strife,
There ain't enough dislikes an' things
In this 'ere modern life:
'Ow can we 'ope to 'ave unrest
When blokes don't know that they're oppressed?
On Sundees they enjoy theirselves,
An' rush from trams an' trains
When they could best employ theirselves
Be strikin' off their chains:
'Ow can we bid their chains begone
When blokes don't know they got 'em on?
Give us a chance to speak with 'em,
An' tell 'em 'ow they're cursed.
Give us an hour a week with them
So they can know the worst.
'Ow can the crowd know they are slaves
Unless the agitator raves?
The people's too contented, like,
Too much inclined to smile;
An' views should be presented like
To make 'em scowl a while.
Let's 'ave a day of real unrest
Just once a week for the oppressed.