Now this wouldn’t be a rhyme (of mine) if I didn’t have the time, for a moan and a whine about this terrible crime.
They may be home, with a cough, rash or cold, because, as we’re told, it’s OK, they’re not old. But if I may be so bold, I simply don’t believe a word they say. For all the symptoms, you see, are more than we’ve been made to believe and it’s important to protect us all. But without a test, we can’t really rest, as I’ve stressed, is this thing on their chest, just a cold or much more?
Six months ago, how could we have known, this would be our new norm? Up on the Hill, feeling chill, thinking we’d weathered the storm. Now the time has come, to look at what’s been done and ask whether we really agree. With our kids on the line, we’re told it’s all fine, go out, spend, live and be free. But after three days, with eyes ablaze, we gaze as we come to a stop. A second wave on it’s way, how many days, until they see that it’s only the start. These bubbles they say, that will keep it at bay, just aren’t enough to keep them all safe. Pop, pop.
But it’s not just them put at risk and we can’t afford to be brisk, when the old folk are helping us out. As we’ve been told time and again, as they allocate blame, it’s those oldies that can really go down. It’s not a risk I’d say, that we’re prepared to take, when too much is up for the chop.
What’s really the best, is anyone’s guess, what’s the answer to all this mess. What matters first, is to stop it being much worse and it’s up to us to ensure that it’s not. Some see through the lies, some don’t look with their eyes, at those guys, as they sit and they plot.
Last time I checked 800 were down, but I know that these numbers have grown. With schools unprepared and a test system much worse, when will these ‘leaders’ dethrone. Another cock up their end, with much to defend, the decisions they make are all wrong. Their claims that they make, in any given day are for their pockets and not for the throng. While they’re nicely tucked away on their benches they stay, with metres to keep them apart. Nodding their heads and crossing their chests as we witness the men without heart.
And who’s there to keep them in line, well once upon a time, I’ll tell you there was such a man. But we let him slide, slip between the lines and the media finished the job. Now who is there, standing our ground, rising up to take on the mob. You see, the decisions they make, whether for good or for bad, it’s all the stuff they don’t want us to see. What’s going on, our ‘greatness’ is gone, and the whole bunch are just beastly.
It’s time to shout, stand our ground, kick them out, they’ve done enough damage to date. Whatever his name, the one that I blame, he and his minions, are buried in blame. You’ve let us down, left us to sink and to drown, in whatever destruction you’ve made. It’s a flop, you let the ball drop, you hung us all out to dry. Perhaps not directly the pratt who digested the bat, but the one who presented us all up for the chop.
