Lazarus Lite
She comes out from the crowd, she calls
Oi Britain Wakey Wake
She rants, she raves, she blubs, she bawls
There must be some mistake
Instead of rising on her cue
The corpse remains a dire blue
She comes out to the grave to shout
Oi Britain Shake A Feather
The corpse is still as sauerkraut
And far beyond its tether
Instead of swelling full of breeze
It lies there like an old disease
She enters briskly from the wings
Oi Britain Stir Your Stumps
Despite the miracles she brings
The body’s in the dumps
It does not answer to her clarion
It is as dead as honest carrion
She pumps her smug and desperate grin
Oi Britain Rise And Shine
The corpse says, With the state I’m in
This is my finish line
I lie here in my perma-freezer
Death Means Death, say you, Theresa?
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