This is a line,
The Tories defined,
That they never will,
Ever cross over,
The people can see,
The betrayal for free,
As the yanks come over,
Just to take over ?
Our angels are dying,
Our people are crying,
For the loved ones,
They can’t hug,
And say love you,
But time has come,
Where angels say,
It’s not fun,
We are stopping,
And downing this plastic,
As you don’t care,
And you never did,
We are walking out,
And we won’t be hid,
We are marching,
In the longest line,
That we define,
And you can go,
Hide in the fridge.
- Quaker Paintings In Situ At Lincoln Meeting House
- The Clock