Folke of Hadleigh once again attende

To me, Wat Tyler, peasants' friende

From Coram Street, or so they guess

And who am I to doubt the press?

But as you'll see when I am finished

My faith in truth's somewhat diminished

So please make thyself comfortable

And indulge my verses multiple

The plague of old opened my eyes

To see the world behind the lies:

The king and church as scoundrels two

Who ruled our lives from plough to pew

And so we asked them both in rhyme

A question, though itself a crime:

"When Adam delved and Eve span

Who was then the Gentleman?"

And was it not the same for you?

Through plague you saw the world anew

Jobs once thought inconsequential

Shown to all to be essential

And neighbours fed through mutual aid

And clapping nurses underpaid

Lauded then, now left behind

By leaders who were covid-fined

But now the truth lies often hidden

By louder voices over-ridden

And facts no longer false or true

But alternatives from which to choose

For folks believe an easy lie

That fits with their philosophie

Not strive to find good evidence

That might undo their confidence

And so we all become misguided

Tribal, scared, a world divided

And liars then we come to trust

As long as they are one of us

A familiar face – of tyrannie -

Excuses every villainie

For, we say, 'tis aimed at those

Who different truths to ours chose

And corporations big as states

Count the clicks that fuel the hate

Untaxed, unchecked, to you they preach

About the value of free speech

But talk is cheaper in their game

Than taking their due share of blame

They rake the cash and wring their hands

As they deflect all your demands

For scoundrels, just as long ago,

Will fight to keep the status quo

So must the world remain unchanged,

As say the men who hold the reins?

No

Remember how the plague laid bare

This truth that lies cannot ensnare:

No matter what they do or say

It doesn't have to be this way

So thank you Hadleigh for your time

For wading through my every line

And if you skipped say two or three

I cannot say that I blame thee

Nor those who couplets cannot face

For thee I'll cut right to the chase

And summarize into one line:

To those in power cry: 'Up Thine!'