Measure for measure/face-to-face

Britain is made up of classes
It is important you remember your place
If you have not been to the right school
Then you will be more like a disgrace

Those with privilege prosper
Those who have the right faces on
Their facebook account or Twitter
Will give a leg up to those they know
Then push the ladder down in your face

Small faces, large faces,
The Big heads of human races
The confidence crew
Who  backbite you
But it is all just to stay in the race

They don't care who they step on as they
Are making their way up
And even as they fall back down
Their friends are snatching their cup
And stealing their crown

This is Britain now, this is the green rolling hills
Of farmers lands, who have no plans to share
Only to exploit nature,
These are the Gentry who own the manor houses
Who play on the stock markets of the world
And roar like lions at all the church mouses
Who preach to them about religion
How it will save their souls
So they turn up to church on Sunday
To fill up the coffer's holes

And England's green and pleasant land is now
A feudal state, with more of the unfortunate
Precariats working as peasants to put food on their plate
And those with the upper hand
Who went to Oxbridge or Eton
Can dictate the rules, even news worthy opinion
And determine the course of the nation

And those without hope are those babes lying in the cradle
Because they have been born into Britain's lands
Where no charity could wager,
Them a better deal than
If they came from foreign lands
Because then they would be treated as tokenistic exceptions
And given places at the high tables

Wander out beyond its shores and you discover the corruption in every country
They say only in Britain can a person be honoured with equality
Yet in those wayward states, which are decreed,
The worst by liberal minds,
People's protection is enforced by a harsh brutality
Yet We in Britain have that same
sentiment of protection
Yet ours is backed up by far more ruthless crooks
Mostly who have gone to Eton
And of those their brutality is taught
In the school of hard knocks
That coming from the right family or background
Will ensure your measure of protection

It is better you come from foreign climes
So that you are not aware of the system
That grinds the working man down
That turns to dust the middle classes
That neither awards nor trusts
Nought but itself save tokenistic prizes
To save faces, small faces
Big faces savour the queen's graces
Who stands a top the totem pole that rocks
Us all to sleep in our places

And we are asleep, as a nation
We writhe, and toss and turn
But the pressure pushed down on the blanket
Smothers us, covers our faces
So we cannot breathe
The nanny state- that feeds us
That suckles us,
Then the tax system that takes it straight back again
When we have finally earnt enough
This is what necessitates the need for the classes
The leg up the socio-economic ladder
That gets you to a higher status
A better clientele,
The confidence crew of crooks
With the small faces

Then you go on holidays in the Caribbean
Find off-shore places with them
To hide your taxes,
And the secrecy grows and the clubs grow
Until we all wear masks to cover our faces

And they say face book is the great leveller
But it just enforces what already exists
The power structures
Then have greater powers
To manipulate the poorest
Like grist
To the mill
To grease the wheels
Of progress