When doublespeak becomes communication
When what was writ’s unwritten, lies are truth
When options few are really just the same ones
And those who should do better are uncouth
When people are the pawns and power the endgame
And news reported dwells on virtual facts
When 101’s a room we all must live in
And noble’s executed in dark arts
When Napoleon takes the credit for our efforts
And homage is considered his just due
When one would rise among us to refute this
The porcine clique, combined, know what to do
Rewrite our history and offer soundbites
Report what must be said in ways it must
The trough must not be shattered nor the dark lit
The face should honour boot and in it trust
When zombies tear at brains and then reshape them
When two and two is five in bankers’ math
When economic power’s the only saviour
And war is profit, gamblers scoff and laugh
When George’s past is now our glowing present
And Big Brother’s just a guy like all the rest
We’re living in a novel ’till we notice
That few among them work for what is best
When thirteen’s on the clock and we accept that
And still applaud the hand that strikes false hour
When destruction of the word is deemed a good thing
Gravity and science exist no more
When happiness is valued more than freedom
But only ours, not theirs, we’ve lost the plot
When isolation’s cult breeds more of ignorance
We have a world that’s free from reason; doublethought
When history reflects, some time, in the future
On what was what, and what was not, let’s pray
Our children can forgive us our trespasses
For the legacy of Orwell on that day