You’re the Fascist dictator running through my veins,
The Polpot of my heart, the Idi Amin of my mind,
If I try to escape,
You crush me with your jackboot of love.
Just like they shot Lorca in a field at night,
First time you looked at me, you did the same, straight in the head,
Straight in the heart,
Marching out to Franco’s drums, all for you, Guernica sweet.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t think of anybody else,
Because you’ve brainwashed me like a (North) Korean,
Looking down at me from the walls of your Totalitarian state,
Oh I feel safe…love and fear, fear and love.
The moment before you finish me off with Reich-like efficiency
I’d betray my mother, brother, sister and child for you,
And as I lie there in the bosom of your Iron Fist, I think
your regime is the most brutal, sweetest there’s ever been.
I think I should go Aung San Suu Kyi myself off before it kills me.
By Adam Morby