Self-Indulgence Is King Poem by Mark Heathcote

We are living in a secular world
Covered by secular politics,
We-are-given our secular-families
Nothing has any meaning anymore
So we spend, spend, spend, spend
We spend little time with one another
Self-indulgence is King
Love is liquid, liquid love
You can shop for
And dropped if you haven't got the money or the time
It doesn't matter if there are two groups,
In this secular world
Those who are superior or inferior
Be on a different flight path,
Self-indulgence is King
Ask any rough sleeper if has he got any credit
Upward mobility and he'll say no.
The superiors don't look down or back.
Not until they too crash and burn alone
Democracy's spiritual secular nucleus is a big fat zero.
They've no meaning, their lives are empty.
That's when clutching nothing it all comes home.
Self-indulgence isn't King of a principality of thieves.
You better beg on your knees or lose that pious morality, please.