Living to be one-hundred and three, is not quite the prize it’s been cracked up to be!
Well, yet again, it rains and rains The water spreads across the plains
What if they thought we didn’t care If they gave in to deep despair And one day they just were not there…
Their profits still boom while prophets of doom are labelled as merely misguided. Big Oil wants us cross; they don’t give a toss – we’re easier led when divided.
Who cares if both the choices stink? Who cares what other people think?