Sorry guys, this one is about football (soccer) and its effect on the current climate in England. Won't make much sense if you don't know about that, but have a read anyway and make what you will of it

Leather boot to leather ball
(Or more accurately
Leather/synthetic polymer boot to polyester/cotton blend with rubber inner ball)
Put said ball in the opposition goal
But ... that's not all...
It's a safe place for grown men to emotionally connect,
Without fear of losing another mans respect,
Or dealing with issues that we're trying to deflect.
It's how I connect-ed with my Dad,
When I was a shy and nervous lad,
And Blackburn Rovers weren't just really, really bad.
So... Me and my oldest discussed the best team England had
And the younger 2 waved the flag
That Hazel made at school;
Full of pride;
An England flag that looked like a Union Jack.

                          "We're back!"
Listening to the popular pre match pontification of pointless ex professionals,
And on Twitter and Facebook and in the papers and in the chants...
                   ... One thing is clear...

"50 years of hurt never stopped US dreaming!"
"This isn't about life and death, it's much more than that ...
"This is about national pride...
"Brexit!
"11 lads to show Europe that Britain is still Great"
By Britain... We mean England...
By England ...we mean our England...
"Born and bred me!"
By our England ...we mean ...
"Close the borders!
Turn back the ****** immigrants!
And **** Jonny Foreigner!"

Coz England... Is about to 'kick off'

A black man falls to the ground crushed by some foreigner
A pug ugly **** steps up

Rooooonnnnneyyyyyy!!!

England is great!
England is mighty!
We don't need Europe!
The sun never sets on OUR empire!
Coz we are the Greates...

****!

How can Iceland score?
How can little Iceland score?
How can ****** little Iceland score against mighty England?!?!?

It's a fluke.
We'll come back into it
We'll come back...
Into..

****!

How are we losing to Iceland?!?
And on
And on
And on

Until the end - 2:1

Sleepy heads lay down in bed
As grown ups pick their world to shreds
Self respect hangs by a thread
On buses making racist threats
As plastic pundits and armchair politicians
Vent their hate on Facebook

"When we won the World Cup in '66 it was because they had the passion and desire to succeed, not the money. They'll all go home to their posh houses and cars whilst we all give 100% just to put food on the table. There are too many foreign players in the premier league getting paid crazy amounts so the English talent is overseen. Until the FA step in and limit foreigners to 2or3 per team then we will always under achieve, cos we don't have the players to choose from."

Foreigners are to blame
Their foreign money
And their foreign players
****** foreigners

It's not the pressure of a green and once pleasant land?
Placed with green and jealous hands
On the shoulders of the greenest lads
Who were only on the green of that field
To kick a not leather ball with a not leather boot
For their country (and maybe for their Dad)?

I don't have the answers, but I ask myself, in another 50 years, what will we dream of?

Marcus Rashford played well though didn't he?!

When she came into my life, I was missing hope
Just barely released from the end of my rope
And learning again, how to cope

No hope to be loved, no expectations of kindness,
But she told me not liking myself was blindness
And I hoped I could find this

She gave me hope to be loved and respected, reminded me of all of the lives I'd affected, helped me let go of feeling rejected, still without trust, her kindness I tested, to see if my trust could be safely invested... And it could... Entirely

Why can't I see what she sees in me?
Why can't I let go and simply be?
I'm there for her but I'm not there for me.
I'm not free.

My friend Sergio said "the most painful is when you have hope,
When you know it's impossible it's easy to cope,
But unless you're a man with conviction of a pope,
And you're cursed with the dream of a chance to elope,
Hope will eat you up"

Why can't I see what she sees in me?
Why can't I let go and simply be?
I'm there for her but I'm not there for me.
I'm not free.

But I don't want to let go of a hope to love you
I wanted to think that my dreams could be true
That someone could show me my worth like you do
Stay close when I'm a stressed
Remind me I'm blessed
My fears all confessed,
The time you invest,
To make me my best;
It made me believe in me,
And I love you for that
Because I can't do it on my own
Yet

She was my hope,
But I must let go of Hope.
I will miss that hope,
But hoping for hope is hopeless,
And hoping for Hope is just hopeful,
And I hope beyond Hope I can find my own hope,
Without Miss Hope.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?



I was head of Art and I got noticed

Within a year I got promoted

Faculty leader of creative skills

This is the part where it really kills

Building them up from deep rock bottom

With jealousy aimed at the job I'd gotten

A job that I had never wanted

That I only took because I cared

All of my decisions seemed to be haunted

By the ghost of a culture where they just don't care

Resting in the coffin of a lost tradition

Kids so bored they're turning white

Beaten down to bored submission

And everyone seems to have given up the fight

But they're still convinced that their way's "right"



How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?



We laid foundations, a team was built

The weighing scales began to tilt

But every time you made a shift

The goal posts seemed to start to drift

And this all caused a further rift

The final one I couldn't lift



How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?



Gossip and lies caused by others stress

Creates a catastrophic mess

Turns people's lives upside down

Gives off the sense that they're a clown

They're trying. They're just really down

Simply trying not to drown

Marriage ending

Friends unfriending

Children's lives are slowly bending

House and finance are up-ending

Mediation sessions need attending

Everything seems to need mending

And the pain seems to be never-ending



How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?



Professional life vs Personal life

Professional strife = Personal strife

Personal wife goes through professional strife

Personal strife =



"I understand what you're going through, but we need to think about the learners."



Stress in teaching is the expectation

Work life balance has no correlation

The pressures of a confused nation

Makes teachers into the poor relation



Goodbye btec, goodbye vocation

Hello Gove and his minds creation

Goodbye Gove and hello Morgan

Hiding behind a gritty slogan

Creating the pressure of pointless change

For teachers to correct and rearrange



How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?



"I need you to mark and enter all years grades

By the end of the week, I am afraid"



"I've got to take my daughter swimming

I've got to see my son try winning"



"Read through your teaching standards mate

And leave your children at the gate"



End of the week the books are done

But head and deputies are overrun

"We'll have to put these books aside

To push our children down the slide"



Let's flip it round and just imagine



"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm ill"

"You can't be ill the learners will fail"

"I need some patience, I need some time"

"The kids work needs to be sublime

Don't they deserve that? Don't you think?

Do you want to see your learners to sink?"



And there it is. The teacher guilt.

Because that's the way that we've been built

We care too much

We try too much

We give too much

We work too much

And we lose too much

Default 100%?!?

Like energy is heaven sent??

Like when your kids are down with flu

You just man up, there's work to do

We get ideas above our station

Of how this job is a vocation

When we stop and look around

The evidence just can't be found

Someone tells me what to teach

Someone tells me how to teach it

Someone tells me how to plan

Someone tells me when to plan it

Someone tells me how to mark

Someone tells me when to mark it

We work to targets, get appraised

Residuals to get profiles raised

It's industry. I rest my case.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

We're off to Never never land - Paracetamol, cucumber sandwiches and the lost rent boy

Gav called me up.
Him and Tolly were going out to Never Never Land in Blackburn
3 lost boys off on a curious adventure

Mi mum dropped me off at Gavs 'ouse ont' Shad estate
Gav got us a coke before we caught t' buz in
But 'e sprinkled in some white pewder
"What's this? Pixie dust?"
"It's summat to gi' you Speed" said Tolly
"just drink it!" Said Gav
So I did

"2nd Star t' t' reet and straight on t' t' moornin'!"

But we'd bin sold crushed paracetamol

So we just acted like we were ****** and lied to each other about ow buzzin wi were
But we weren't buzzin
Then we caught buz in
Waitin' for t' affects o' t' artificial amphetamine t' kick in
'N' we got t' Neverland
No mermaids 'ere
No pretty ***** girls
There were a few blokes wi dodgy eyes n limps
But no no, no-n-no no, no-n-no no no no there's no pirates!
Just ****** plastic Palm trees
'N' townies in fluorescent nylon shirts
No peacock feathered hats ere
Just steps n curtains n aggressive faces
'N' me wi' a bowl cut and trepidation
Tryin' t' think happy thoughts

Surrounded bi freebooters, piccaroons, Buccaneers, filibusters and Rovers
Wi' their left foot, right foot dancing
And an eye on t' maidens
Sneering in our direction
Lost boys
That 'aven't grown up

I sort o' skirted round edges feelin' scared
Then went to sit at sides on an empty table 'n' hid

On t' next table were a nice lookin' couple o' blokes.
They must o' bin good mates!
They were cuddlin' 'n' touchin' each other a lot.
Anyhow, thi got talking t' mi
Told 'em I'd not bin out before
"Ow old are you lad? 14/15?"
"I'm 18"
Thi sort o' laughed, dunno why
Then one of 'em offered me a cucumber sandwich
I thought t' mi sel'
"I dunno much about nightclubs but I dunt think folk normally bring cucumber sandwiches!"
But I were 'ungry so I ate it
Then I think 'e thought we were mates coz 'e were touchin mi leg
I 'ad to crow for Gav an' Tolly
They came in like Peter Pan and rescued mi and I set off for 'ome

I went to t' phone box n' called mi mum
Didn't know town reet well
So I waited for 'er outside o' mi old school
There were some scary lookin people on one side o't' road snappin at each other like crocodiles
So I stood under t' lamppost so I were int' leet an' t' cars passin could see mi
Felt safer like that
Time passed
Tick tock tick tock
T' crocodiles were lurkin
Each time a car passed I stepped out a bit
To look for mi mum
Drivers kept lookin at mi nervously n drivin off
Maybe thi thought I were a crocodile too
N they kept smirking at mi
Then some officers pulled up like privateers in their blue and white flashin galleon
Made us stand again t' wall as I asked for parle
'N' thi searched mi for treasure
Asked us if I pulled into port for rentin
"Rentin' what? I'm Waitin for mi mum."
"Aye cap'n! Hahaha! I'm sure you are! Dressed in tight little hot pants!"
"These aren't 'ot pants, they're chinos?!"
Then mi mum turned up an said "oh aye! This streets t' red light district!"
"Well ****** me!"

Never, never again... Until uni happened

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

Live for the weekend
Watch TV
Live for the weekend
Watch TV
Out on the town for the weekend
Watch TV Watch TV

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

Escape into your escapism
Get lost in your escapism
Trust in your escapism
Get trapped into escapism
Escape from your escapism
Escape from your self made prison
Escape the acceptance that's arisen

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

We're
Drones Robotics
Clones on antibiotics
Zoned hypnotic
Habitually ******
Artificially exotic

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

You're watching your *** life on Tv
A package holiday - pretend to be free
Post on Facebook how life should be
Focus your kids on getting a C
Lurching towards you - Hollow eyes
Pale Gaunt - Fed on lies
In systems that we all despise
Because you sat at home on your own
Or In a pub over grub
Or on a phone having a moan
Or a coffee shop pontificating
Or a lecture cleverly debating
Or an artists studio 'creating'
But you didn't ******* do anything did you?
You thought about it
You talked about it
You sat and maybe wrote about it
But you actually DID nought about it

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

What if we in our liberal pomposity
Followed up our curiosity
And put an end to a small atrocity
Instead of deliberating the big ones
Stop ******* telling people they're wrong and get off your **** and prove it.

Do something.

I'm suffering from a combination
Of boredom and anticipation
Literary constipation
Messing up my "mind's elation"

I need some kind of deviation
To move my thoughts out of station
A moving occasion
To end my dull procrastination

Drawing from an empty to barrel
And drowning in my sorrows

There's a fire in my belly
Today is my day
Look in the mirror
I look hot!
I make her laugh
I'm on fire!!
My days all planned
Firing on all cylinders!!

There's a fire in my belly.
A mixture of fiery passion and suffocating smoke
It drives me, powering my engines, turning my cogs, driving me on.
The harder I work
The more I care
The greater the passion
The more I stoke the fires in my depths
With each new challenge
More fuel to the fire
With each hard word
Fuel to the fire
With each broken promise
Fuel to the fire

Until

My engines burst
And I self combust