Reality SOS….

Seems like there’s a glut of reality TV
Hard to escape and easy to see
On every station across the nation
Some fool struts for satisfaction

“We don’t care, We want more”
Antique bargain road show’s a bore
Like twelve suspects in a house
Seeking fame when they get out

Fuck that fame, burn that house
And Please don’t let the buggers out
May there names be etched in stone
So all twelve may stand alone

They’ve passed the test, unlike the rest
I’d say this years BB, it was the best
What happened though, went on inside?
I’ll tell you what, the fuckers died…

Ratings they went through the roof
Not unlike the fire to tell the truth
Consumed all, as consumers looked on
Horrified their favourite gone

Burnt to a crisp, there is a God
The lord finally got of his tod
He’d had enough, he missed the Simpson’s
And six o’clock was not the same
So time had come to sort it out
An end unto this Game…