There are bad times just around the corner,
There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky,
And its no good whining
About a silver lining
For what we know from experience that they won’t
Roll by.
With a scowl and a frown
We’ll keep our peckers down,
And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
We’re going to unpack our troubles from our old kitbag,
And wait until we drop down dead.
From John O’ Groats to the Solway Firth
They’re sobbing themselves to sleep;
The shrieks and wails
In the glens and dales
Have even depressed the sheep.
Green Energy’s a source of mirth,
The future of oil is blurred,
Turbines are stilled
For lack of wind
And Solar’s a dirty word.
The fat-cat bankers tell it
Like greedy ways are gone,
But if we ask for credit,
They say, ‘Never, nix, there’s none.
Hurray-hurray-hurray!
Suffering and dismay.
There are bad times just around the corner,
And the outlooks’s absolutely vile;
There are Home Fires smoking
From Windermere to Woking,
And we’re not going to tighten our belts and smile, smile, smile.
At the sound of a shot
We’d just as soon as not
Take a hot-water bottle and go to bed:
We’re going to untense our muscles till they sag, sag, sag
And wait until we drop down dead.
to hear the Master sing this click on:
poetrywall 