The Waltz

Here I am now, entertain me

So tired of people trying to explain to me

Can’t let life be a strain you see

Look at the busy bee, not really busy just utterly focused on the moment, relishing the work that has to be done

Matthew calls to me, neither fret nor worry can take you along

The Tory sits next to Mr Hipster Beard, planning new ways to disguise their disdain for the broken

Man said “Tories have feelings too.” But can that be true?

From the vagrant laws to stop and search, it all equates to a state way beyond human flaws, a litany of ineffective tyranny, detached derelictions leading to negligence

Camera bulbs flash as fun old Boris Waltzes into Number 10, back pocket wallet full of lies, headlines and by-lines, the sense of a society worn thin. Will anyone stop him?

Don’t be fucking surprised if they say, you get what you voted for, your ill informed racist rage set the bar, now we await our first prime minister TV star

The biggest cunt so far?

They’re really upping the ante now, Trump abusing, MPs perusing their next act of violence. “Grab the protester round her neck and swing her to and fro.”

Meanwhile somewhere in the Lefty wonderland the looking glass is fractured the Marxists are plastered, we’ve entered the upside down, where anti-semites are sinking the good ship hope, better call the Pope and fetch some rope. We need a higher intervention, some new invention to get us out of this mess

Look again at the busy bee, he’s got the right idea it seems to me