And who will pay the pickled piper’s price

For fame and glory

In hideous stories

Laid out in the daily blag of brag and nagged

Naked pictures of strips and rips

In rags with clothes whipped and torn

In order that all the relevant nips and tucks can be made

Where the very life blood is sucked

And seeps through open wounds with due consent

In order that they can be seen

In all the right places

Chased in haste

Through clubs and pubs

With drunken skunk driven open misery born

Slunk against the wheel

To feel the click hardened steel toed capped boots

That kick in the crutch that knows no fear in revealing all

But just demands its pound of flesh

In even payments slapped on chest and thigh

 

All this to impress

The restless urge

Of lipstick smiles from glamour puss

Dreams of admiration and endless wealth

One among the empty-headed carbon leaded

Bloated and floated upon clouds of hysteria

And must haves

For the have nots

Those two coins short of a shilling

Who have lost the ability to think

To breath above and beyond

The heady perfumed air

Of virtual life

Virtually free of everything

As long as you can afford the price

Of the pickled piper’s payment due

This week’s special offer

Give us all you have body mind and soul

And we will give you absolutely nothing

Except an early death