distance the sounds of a horns crow
Bagpipes are feint; sing about a saint
mama passes over afore a long ole wait
the big ‘C’ burdens thee, is it time? possibly
striving to come, agony to go, confusion maybe
would you wallow in shame or weep
go in peaceful friends as sheep
A ship sails the troubled way across the sea
to a land bewitched with sinful peasantry
enjoyment in a find the strange noise sounds
chants of calling to pray on the mound
beautiful flags of hatred hanging
St George the foreign Prince a dangling
England became a place of hell
viciousness under a racist smell
Tonight eating a curry from my Indian friend
tomorrow a Chinese restaurant sends
a pizza flops meaty mozzarella cheese
amazingly tasty, send some more please
Sting in the tail of a locust
poisonous death from a snake
no - only one way to warm a glove
a hand of warmth and filled with love.
