“Learning will be cast into the mire and trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude.” (from Edmund Burke’s ‘Reflections on the Revolution in France’)
We are the swinish multitude,
Who feed off the Loose Meat,
Our brains are bacon,
Our balls pork chops,
We honk instead of speak.
We’re pigs’ meat,
Pigs' meat,
We wallow in our muck.
Our snouts deep in the stinking trough,
We don’t give a toss.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We riot in the street.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We piss on the elite.
We are the swinish multitude,
With sties that blind our eyes.
No sense of direction,
Just one big erection,
We bonk instead of think.
We’re pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We wallow in our muck.
Our snouts deep in the stinking trough,
We don’t give a toss.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We riot in the street.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We piss on the Elite.
We are the swinish multitude,
Incapable of speeches,
We drink royal blood,
We eat the rich,
We fart in Halls of Art.
We’re pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We wallow in our muck.
Our snots deep in the stinking trough,
We don’t give a toss.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We riot in the street.
Pigs’ meat,
Pigs’ meat,
We piss on the Elite.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
(from the play I wrote for Bruvvers Theatre Company - named after Spence's magazine 'Pigs' Meat' which was a response to Burke - I read this at the Literary & Philosophical Society on Monday 21st June 2010 as part of an event to celebrate the 260th anniversary of Spence’s birth in Newcastle and the unveiling of a plaque in his honour, for which myself and others had campaigned for years)
