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mid_day_crisis

Then I saw his face and I was a believer
It was the automatic rifles
The Nintendos and the Segas
And the half a dozen dead disciples And like many a fruitcake before him
He claimed to be the son of God
But like many a fruitcake before him
Maybe he really was

And meanwhile a black Maria
Leaves the hallowed halls of justice
Under a hail of phlegm and fire
From the assembled vigil-aunties and uncles

Hot Dogs!
Ices!
Mid day crisis!

Ippa dippa dation no operation
Too many people at the station
Get in line behind the nation
The rest of life's fall-out patients
Who wake up every morning smiling
Stretching, yawning, breakfast-timing
Cut in slices, toasted brown
Then the mid day crisis comes around

And no, I'm not a believer
And no, I don't want to see your leaflets
I lost my faith with my taste for sausages and hate
And no you can't come in for tea and biscuits

Hot dogs!
Ices!
Mid day crisis!

mid_day_crisis.txt · Last modified: 2020/09/04 02:38 by parry