We are gathered outside the magistrates’ court
To witness justice wither away.
Barristers with black sling-bags and grey
Drainpipe suits slink inside past officials today
As we listen to the Grim Reaper
Analyse the truth’s ignominious departure.
Big lorries blare their support.
Lamborghinis could not give a fuck.
The Lion and the Unicorn above us all
Have one comment: Dieu et mon droit.
We are gathered outside the magistrate’s court
Attended by the foreign press. It seems the Beeb
Is on Easter break as we unite in chants for freedom,
All too aware that this is an illusion
Rubbishing those rights for which so many fought.
A signature establishes the irrational.
The CIA are here among us trying to look hip.
And as the wife of Julian Assange
Communicates a foregone conclusion.
The prosecution flees like rats from a sinking ship.