I do not know who wrote this poem BUT it certainly hits the nail on the head. Well done whoever wrote it. We live in a country called Daftland The England we knew is no more Where sensible people do ludicrous things Or risk breaking some Daftland law. In Daftland we've police dogs with muzzles Less the villain has cause to complain And to steal from a shop and say 'sorry' Means your free with no stain to your name. You had better leave lights on in buildings When you lock up and go home at night 'cause the burglars might hurt themselves entering And there's no way you'll be in the right. When speaking be wary in Daftland As some terms that you've used all your life Now have connotations unintended And you'll end up in all sorts of strife. We elect politicians in Daftland To give us the laws of the land Yet eight laws in ten now come from abroad The whole thing has got out of hand. The borders are open in Daftland And of migrants there's no keeping track Just a few of the thousands illegally here Will ever be caught and sent back. The exception to this is the hero Who fought for this land in the war He's old and he's sick, he might cost us a bit So he's not welcome here any more. When the history is written of Daftland Historians may just recall That the craziest people in Daftland Were the public who put up with it all.