Whose Wages Are These ?

Whose wages these are I think I know.
Their job is dancing rumba in parliament though
They will not see me stopping here
To watch their wages filling up banks.

My little eyes must think it queer
To look at their wages without permission
Between the honourable and senseless workers
Who make the loudest noise of the year dancing rumba in parliament

Their wages are lovely, plenty and great to be envious
But I have a job to keep before I confront them,
And children to raise before I shout,
And a rent to pay before I scream and get sacked by vultures