two thousand pound we won,

safely to a place in the sun,

oh dear god what have we become,

bermuda shorts and shirts,

we'll pay our middle aged,middle class dues,

we'll pay a cleaner to polish our shoes,

got to be up early tomorrow,

its such a big meeting.

yeah well i dont,

nothing no- thing, no meaning.

so drop another prozac down the hatch,

stand at the station beside a railway track,

strangers smiling in an over familliar way,

you catch anger management, from mid management,

oh freedom from entanglement,

this post train had a message at some point,

a de-railment on the starvation bypass,

its okay first class smoking carriage is still intact,

they were led through this car without interact,

they didn't seem to see it was me that was trapped,

my leg was beneath his sunday broadsheet newspaper,

I survived on damp sandwiched pickle and cheese and cold tea,

the british rail ticket collector dont charge to ride later,

its not worth a ticket at this time of night,

so you can ride for free, just duck down out of sight,

behind that middle aged middle class strain of bacteria,

its an ancient ego trip to make you feel inferior.

fingers up to the corporate back,

all the while smiling at its face, over your shoulder,

and if i was worzel gummage i feel sure you'd rummage,

like a paramedic for my wallet and the coin inside my pocket.

unfortunately i dopped it in to the abandoned electric socket,

some money in the meter, no i said meter, not theater dear,

that box upon the wall? no not the royal box that you worship oh so much,

for god and country, or is that for queen, king or monkey?

keep on keeping up appearances, a splendid dinner party or two, fluffy bog roll covers you are too.

Let it all go.