We come back to
'the rock and roll of the tortured soul'
but it's
quietened down,
things
tightened up,

I never danced at Mardi Gras,
a regret.

Here in the British Isles
they're always building bridges
when they should be getting
miles away,
we should
emigrate before it's too late,

the portcullis is being lowered
along with expectations.

Feast on Easter eggs
get legless later on
and
the slab they lay you on
will feel much warmer.

Misery?
who?
me?

don't stop me when I'm on a roll
the rock's a harder place.