It Couldn't Happen With Solar

Now worry not, hard-working proles,
While strivers make their friendly holes;
Fear migrant hordes; do not beware
Of little earthquakes here and there;
Fear not that in your English town
The terraced castles might fall down,
Nor that you must await collapse
Whle drinking methane from the taps;
For when we give our chums your land
We'll compensate you, cash in hand.
Nor shall we seek to bribe or please
Mere councils and authorities,
So you yourself have more to put
In all the services we've cut.
Accept our hand-outs and regard,
And let them frack you deep and hard.

Tessie Crackers