Farm gate with The Alliance

The farmers have reached the Gates
Shaking the Foundations of our Alliance with Democracy
They’re prepared to tarry, cold weather notwithstanding
Cops, Pocs, bleeding hearts, don’t hold their fates

They’ve come they say to the media
To protect their interests from the capitalists
Who threaten their cocooned existence among
The heat and dust of rural India

But not to the lapdog media they speak
They vet, they vent they call out the spineless puppets
A paper ain’t a paper a TV channel ain’t a TV channel anymore
The Alliance with Democracy has had their knickers in a tweak

Ryots running riot, is what the Alliance would have us believe
Fomented by our darling neighbours who have fuzzy records
The foreign hand of foreign gods, the godi media avers
Nay, say the farmers, it ain’t them, we’re here on leave

Fields they have sown, they need watering
The families back home take care of the chores
Come back victorious, or don’t come at all
Soldiers and farmers, ’tis a similar calling

There are farmers and fumble harmers, the Alliance
I’m loath to say is the second
Eyeing the great pie in the sky built on farmers’ toil
I fear there is an unholy a Poc-Biz dalliance

They cook drink and eat in the cold
They’ve come on trollies with supplies for months
Blankets and quilts and other suchlike
They are upbeat, young and old

The farmers are old as old as agriculture
They strike green from the soil with their toil
At the mercy of Nature and lenders
Being scared of politicians is not their culture

They will stick it out to the bitter end
Support is coming from near and far
Food, medicines, toilets, water and all
The usurious policies they will upend