THE RIOTERS PRAYER
Our father, who art in prison, only mum knows thy name, thy Riots come, read it in the Sun. In Birmingham, as it is in London, give us this day our Welfare bread and forgive us our for our looting, as we are happy to loot those who defend stuff against us. Lead us not into employment but deliver us free housing, for thine is the Spliff, the Blackberry & the Lager, forever and ever...Innit