Could we cut ourselves off from our country?
Burn all the books and monochrome rules;
Sever the fragile vessels of history?

I want to walk fast without news in my ear
over hills and fields and so thrilled with fear;
I want to take a tab
of fantastic poison
and see the world lit up
in a kaleidoscope of flags.

Through woods, past trees,
I will kick leaves
and brave a universe of tumbleweeds.
And from beneath a
canopy of luxury
a paradise I see
past the sun, where all is free
and hatred wastes and bleeds.

But everything is not as it seems -

Back home I dream in cut-throat numbers
vile quantities disturb my slumbers.
My identity drifts in the TV;
Jeremy Kyle makes my last plea
as my ears fill with adultery.

And then there are debts
that flash up - my patience cracks
into a pool of anguish.

I must get away,
get away from this madness.