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Scott Brown Apr 2020
It's time to fold the deckchairs pack the buckets and the spades.
Your tan is just like everything eventually it fades.

No more ***** do, or lazy afternoon.
It's time to say goodbye my friends, we hope to see you soon.

It's time to iron the uniforms and polish all the shoes.
With heavy heart the satchels packed, gut wrenching Monday blues.

Summers over now my dear Jack Frost is in the wings.
We try to put the lady off but eventually she sings.

The king is in the counting house, the catchers in the rye.
There's emptiness inside my heart, a tear falls from my eye,

Because it's been the best of times makes coming down much worse.
No more whiskey in the jar no pennies in the purse.

Writing this has somehow helped, I'm starting to feel better.
I think I'll rummage in the drawer and find my Christmas sweater.
Scott Brown Apr 2020
I’m stood here in the Sainsburys queue shaded from the sun.
I may have nowhere else to go but plenty can be done.

There’s time to think or even dream and redesign your life.
Fall right back in love again, with your husband or your wife.

Paint a lovely rainbow for everyone to see
One day we’ll be over this the tin man said to me.

Courage wisdom love and heart all been rediscovered
Tik Tok stars are being made since we’ve all been big brother’d

The irony of distancing I’ve pondered for a while
Put me 20 feet away I’m closer when you smile.

You cross the road and give a wave then shout a quick hello.
The feeling of community a reassuring glow.

Clap our hero’s Thursday night, cheer or bash a pan
Many lives are on the line let’s all do what we can.

So stay at home and wash your hands a box set on the telly.
Let that Joe Wicks character reduce your growing belly.

So sing the baked potato song and sing with all your might .
As when this thing is over we’ll be OUT OUT every night.

— The End —