CITIZEN’S LAMENT

 

Oh to be in prison now that April’s here.

The council tax is rising

And they’ve upped the price of beer!

The kids want pocket money

The wife wants – well, don’t ask!

When all I want’s a simple fag

And ale straight from the cask.

 

Oh to be in prison now that April’s gone.

There’s nowt good on the telly

And they’ve built a bigger bomb.

Three square meals a day, Guv.,

And a pillow for me head.

’cos they don’t care where you come from,

If you’re black or white or red.

 

Oh to be in prison now that Summer’s flown.

For the Winter nights are closing

And they’ve re-possessed me home.

I lost me job on Thursday

And me car was clamped  last Sun.

Well I’d stand a better chance here

If I’d asked for asylum!

 

Oh to be in prison through the wind and rain and hail

’Cos my bank account is frozen

And they open all my mail.

I might get to be a ‘Trusty’,

Tucked away from cold and damp.

And the worst thing that could happen

Is a touch of writer’s cramp!

 

Yvonne Brunton