THE RIOTERS PRAYER
Our father who are in prison,
Only mum knows his name,
Thy riots come, read it in the Sun,
In Birmingham as it is in London,
...Give us this day our welfare bread and forgive us our looting,
As we're happy to loot those who defend stuff against us,
Lead us not into employment but deliver us free housing,
For thine is the spliff, the Blackberry and the lager,
For ever and ever...
Innit!
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