Presented Without comment:
'Our Father, which art in prison
Only mum knows his 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 looting,
As we are happy to loot those who defend stuff against us.
And lead us not into employment
But deliver us free housing.
For thine is the spliff, the BlackBerry and the lager,
Forever and ever,