Friday Poetry Corner : The Fall

[EternalOptimist]

You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Brown is coming to town

He's making a list,
And checking it twice;
Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice.
Santa Brown is coming to town

He laughs when you're weeping
Has a smile thats clearly fake
He knows if you've been taxed or not
So be poor for goodness sake!

O! You better watch out!
You better not cry.
Better not pout, I'm telling you why.
Santa Brown is coming to town.
Santa Broon is coming to town

[AlfredJPruffock]

The UK economy is on the rocks
You can barely afford a pair of socks
Who can save us from these knocks?
Your government, which is full of ... caring, thoughtful and imaginative problem solvers.

The worried efforts of the busy heap
The dirt, the imprecision, and the beer
Produce a few smart wisecracks every year;
Laugh if you can

but you will have to leap.

[Ruprect]

The UK economy is on the rocks
You can barely afford a pair of socks
Who can save us from these knocks?
Your government, which is full of ... caring, thoughtful and imaginative problem solvers.

[AlfredJPruffock]

_____________________________________________



The sense of danger must not disappear
The way is certainly both short and steep,
However gradual it looks from here
Look if you like, but you will have to leap.

Tough-minded men get mushy in their sleep
And break the by-laws any fool can keep
It is not the convention but the fear
That has a tendency to disappear.

The worried efforts of the busy heap
The dirt, the imprecision, and the beer
Produce a few smart wisecracks every year;
Laugh if you can, but you will have to leap.

The clothes that are considered right to wear
Will not be either sensible or cheap,
So long as we consent to live like sheep
And never mention those who disappear.

Much can be said for social savoir-faire,
But to rejoice when no one else is there
Is even harder than it is to weep
No one is watching, but you have to leap.

A solitude ten thousand fathoms deep
Sustains the bed on which we lie, my dear;
Although I love you, you will have to leap;
Our dream of safety has to disappear.


WH Auden