Moscow on the Thames

Shaken brittle bones
Shaken Baltic Sea
The royal disease, they rise with the feet
Silent Winter Palace, behind the line
Love letters, from the front
Collapse of the reign brings much of the same
Noon-day hanging in the square of shame
A new start, for the oligarch
What’s a war without the poor?
Who will fall?
Which one will hang for me?
Who will fall?
Which one will hang?
Moscow on the Thames
Back to work again
A shirt front
For the worst cunt
Baby boy for queen, Charlotte for the prince
A million young until the war mints
Who will fall?
Which one will hang for me?
Who will fall?
Which one will hang?