If, or When…

If you can keep down chlorinated chicken
And hold your bowels from hormone-riddled beef
If rat s**t in your cornflakes doesn’t faze you
You’ll suck it up through grit-filled English teeth.
When doctored food makes you a little queasy
And leaves you retching for a magic pill
Unless your unearned income’s free and easy
Your chance of remedy is less than nil.

When Liam Fox the disgraced former doctor
Bends England’s butt for corporate USA
Atlantic Bridge will profit from the sell-off:
Our NHS gunned down on Brexit day.
When dear old gran can’t walk without her hip done
You’ll gladly bow and scrape to pay the price
So Eton’s finest, Farage, Raab and Rees Mogg
Can make a tidy killing from her life.

When work dries up because there is no market
And all your new free time gives you the blues
When tins of spam are too much for your pocket
Just plant some turnips - English through and through.
If leaving Europe wins a true-blue passport
You’ll whip it out and wave it down the dole
And even though the planes to Spain are grounded
You’re English, man, and what’s more, in control.

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Posted By: Ralf Scrampton, Mar 22, 10:43:59