Don’t Make Me Go Back

Don’t make me get back on the tube
Sweating, choking, can’t move
Don’t bring back the traffic fumes
Beeping horns, out of tune
Don’t make me work for forty hours
In soul-less, airless concrete towers
Where not one shrub or flower grows
And songs don’t play from radios
Don’t bring back the Sunday fear
As the awful day draws near
when “It’s back to old priorities
to restart the Economy”
Where Dads don’t smile and frisbies throw
to delighted children they now know
‘cos they’re off trying to please the boss
Back to being tired and cross
Don’t set alarms to get me out
On that endless roundabout
Rushing, fretting, Don’t be Late!
Consume and Accumulate!
No time now for growing spuds
Making love or giving blood
Knocking up a chocolate cake
Take some round for Bill and Kate
No more walks or friendly chats
Phoning friends, stroking cats
Sharing shopping, doing favours
Checking up on the neighbours
No more time for being still
And pondering on a daffodil
Going for a gentle jog
Then lying ‘round with the dog
I had plans to paint the hall
Build a little garden wall
Give my bike a proper clean
But now, once more, they’re only dreams

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