five minute blues song

OK, it took me a little longer than five minutes. But you get the idea. BTW: This is the world's first "open source" blues song, so feel free to contribute verses, set it to music, steal the title, turn it into rockabilly or whatever. The Man did it to black artists for years, after all.

The Hindutva Blues

I woke up one morning,
went into politics.
I gathered up a mob.
They gathered up some sticks.

We hit the streets!
We closed the stores!
“Down with the rich!
Up with the poor!”

We held a vote.
And captured booths.
They told lies.
We told the truth.
There was more of us;
what we said was true.
But they had the loot,
They had thrishuls.

We lost the vote!
My deposit's gone!
My Baby left me
for Advani's son.

I got the Hindutva blues.
I got the Kashmir frustration.
These damn politicians
Need assassination!
I got the Hindutva blues.
I got the Godhra confusion.
This democracy blows.
We need a revolution!

I woke up the next day.
The world upside down.
Amitabh lost his wig,
Sachin lost his crown.

Couldn't beat Bangladesh,
Maybe both should retire.
Now Abhi's got a wife....
But hey, what do I care?

They flail around bats!
and dance around trees!
Mera naam bhi joker.
They got nothin on me.

Why they so rich,
when everybody's poor?
These socialites,
the rabble adores.
They's a billion of us,
And two of them.
I don't like 'em.
Let's do 'em in!

I got the Hindutva blues.
That NDTV sensation!
Turnin' gossip into news,
Ignoring starvation.
I got the Hindutva blues.
I got the Stardust obsession.
I don't wanna know.
About my oppression.

That night it was dark,
They was shedding the load.
Didn't have my Baby,
So I lay down in the road.

I went to sleep!
I dreamt in prose!
Didn't sing no songs,
Didn't fight no foes.

A horse came along,
a brass band besides.
But I didn't wake up.
Though they tried and tried.

The groom had Black Label!
The bharat Cutty Sark!
But all that I could do,
was snore there in the dark.

My Baby stole my heart.
And took my booze.
She run off with another man.
I got nothin left to lose.

I got the Hindutva blues.
I got heart palpitations.
My Baby only knows
How to treat my condition.

I got the Kingfisher blues.
I got the IMFL affliction.
I can't brew my own,
Can't afford my addiction.

(repeat until you pass out drunk or the stoning begins)