Lunch Isolation
England’s in lunch isolation:
She can’t stump up money for stuff.
She can’t even factor in nuclear reactors –
When you’re down on your uppers, it’s rough.
England’s in lunch isolation:
Her minders have starved her of loot.
When your friends have a peace-sign and you have a V-sign,
They’re happy to give you the boot.
England’s in lunch isolation:
It can’t see the playground at all.
When you give up the team for your own private scheme,
Cinderella shan’t go to the ball.
England’s in lunch isolation:
It has one brown banana to munch.
When you thumb the old sneezer at foreigners’ visas,
You don’t get the pick of the bunch.
England’s in lunch isolation:
Cold pizza, cold wurst, poor fromage –
When you use condescension, it’s dinner detention
Until you admit to the charge.
Scotland’s in lunch isolation:
It’s chained to your seat by its kilt.
It wants to play conkers, but you have gone bonkers –
Be careful your gruel isn’t spilt.
Yes, England’s in lunch isolation:
It won’t join with friends at the bell –
Its speeches are hackneyed, it picks at its acne,
And, too broke for soap, it will smell.
Click here for an Independent article.
