The Promise Of A Bowl Of Dripping

Stay at home and sit by the phone
while hope is slowly slipping
You wait in line for a waste of time
and the promise of a bowl of dripping
You can’t contact them they contact you
cos the phone has never known no credit
Ride that bike to wherever they like
with the wraith of Norman Tebbit
You can’t see far can’t see no future
for a trapped and hapless generation
You can only plan to stay a poor man
within a cancerous exploitation
They get more you get more insecure
the claws of debt is the beck of their call
But skin and bones and stones of the Davids
can defy and make Goliaths fall
Stay at home and sit by the phone
while hope is slowly slipping
You wait in line for a waste of time
and the promise of a bowl of dripping

© JB Barrington 2014

Zero Hour

About JB Barrington

The words & verse of JB Barrington; performance poet from Salford. Lovely stuff, touches heart strings and the odd raw nerve - Johnny Vegas Great poems; great delivery - Terry Christian A warm charm, a rapier wit and a real appreciation of words - Louder Than War
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