They’re fracking gas from underground,
They’re fracking mad, not fracking sound.
As peaceful people sit around,
The GMP will batter down.
Fracking gas and cracking houses,
What’s the craic? It’s fracking lousy.
Earthquake tremors thrashing loudly,
Houses crashing down around me.
In Barton Moss, the caring call,
The GMP don’t care at all.
The "greenest ever" Tories fall
And kill the air, and fill with gall.
Peter Lilley, silly-billy,
Bathes in crude oil willy-nilly.
Won’t admit to lying will he?
Vanessa Vine destroyed him truly.
Peter Lilley, Tory twat,
And Tory twats abound like gnats,
Heads shoved so far up their ass,
Long beyond rectum, through ileum they pass.
And ill we feel, we stand aghast,
As morons weave their climate wrath,
And drilling through, spilling out, natural gas;
The fires burn, the methane blasts.
The waters churn with toxic slurry,
The babes will burn, the mothers worry.
Acrylamide - washed out in a flurry,
Glutaraldehyde, kills owt in a hurry.
The world spins round but boils over,
The kettle sounds, the lads are sober,
The drunk ones clad in blue, who rober,
Rob us all, while their chimneys smoulder.