Hard Cell Britain

In Britain, in Britain The clock it is ticking As people tend flowers Or Q’s last for hours And blood pumps and pounds All in vain, Our time is misleading us, The chase is deceiving us, How! Does it all sit in the frame? Do we need so to scurry. So make mundane things our worry so, Questing for labour in vain, And it’s how are we looking, Is my tie on just crooked, As the funeral rolls on in grey rain As cold as ice water falls, Expressions are whey or palled Train wheels click incisively, Paths taken divisively, and the TV shows repeat again. Doors open or shut At your mansion or hut The place you’ll most likely be, A safe bet for equity, A capital certainty..? "Just as long as you’re in on the game" You won’t be a square, You’ll be all set up there With a letterbox under your name That’s where it will all descend, Offers of money lends Tax and utility bills without end © Joe Maverick 01-09-2010