An English Morning

The dirty sun crawls up Behind the clouds Lighting slightly The dark side days Of a dirty,dull,damned nation. 50 now Atomic hair falling out One tooth left The sweet one Hardly any money Hardly any hope left Residential care home Still got my art though Who knows what schemes The murderous middle aged Women have dreamt up today A killer virus on its way Vaccinatons send you back to the start And a mental health system with no heart. I walk down the streets of the divine Shopping time A tenner in the bank The graffitti cleaners Pass by As I sit on a bench And paint a picture in my imagination.