British Values (Poetry)

The whole fabric of society
is tattered now and torn
its finest hour dead before
this century was born

They’re hanging out the old ideals
like flags along the way
yet the land is full of strangers
and the bulldog’s had his day

We may still get the china out
each afternoon at four
adhere to tea’s traditions
ever-British to the core

And remember the school motto
like it’s tattooed on our skin
but the trusty old-boy network
is at last unravelling

Oh, it’s not the realm it used to be
the rich man packs his bags
proud castles lie in ruins now
gold tapestries in rags

Worn threads of class society
too patched and thin to wear
we suffer cheap imported tat
our culture cupboard’s bare

What do British values matter since
we can’t defend our shore?
all identity’s been lost as though
we never won the war