All they wanted to do, was to be your good hosts,
but, with such an atmosphere, they become the ghosts,
as the BBC controls, ITV’s so toxic,
is it any wonder why, these acts are so damned sick,
opinions are not theirs, they’re molded by them,
the stale masters of the telly, who indeed condemn,
“watch your “ps and qs”, and please thank our sponsors”,
the oversaturated task, overseen by censors,
no privacy anymore, they are now the owned,
what they eat, what they do, stations can’t condone,
signed upon a dotted line, to become so very dead,
to be a corporate puppet, isn’t living in the head,
some; who lead a crowd, may just be born so evil,
such as the guy who fixed it, a bastard called Saville,
also those who wanted to sing, become strong consolers,
such a sad, sad story, is the Bay City Rollers,
a graveyard of minstrels, is found in Hollywood,
demands galore pained their souls, they did what they could,
with sour normal judgment, they are slammed of what they took,
it’s not about their blood streams, it’s about the muck,
that’s waded through by them, who dared to dream,
just like Phil, as Joseph, but now he’s off the team,
“excuse Mr Edwards, how does it feel to be the news?”
“I thought I had the right, but it’s clear I cannot choose!”
It’s vital to rectify, and indeed reprimand,
to make a start of clearing up, such a dirty land,
but these many witch hunts, are hypocritical,
as human core operation, makes things critical,
though these well-knowns, admit and apologise,
it seems that dullard viewers, cannot compromise,
neither can execs, see the error of their deeds,
that have made so many tears, behind the screens.