Cold Sausage Rolls

His nan died in a hospital corridor
His mum says her UC’s a ‘mare
He’s stuck for life in the box room
No girlfriend will wanna come there

He’s scrawled across the middle of a Cross of St. George
In marker, Stop The Boats
He’s been told for so long that’s the answer
A three-word bid for votes

He’s doing the windows, he’s lighting a fire
Chucking bricks at police patrols
He’s marking the murder of three little girls
With a tray of cold sausage rolls