Are we ready for it?
Judge us not for its ours to see
Not to march down the streets
While music fills the air
And waif thin mistresses twirl their batons
While voyeurs click
Away on their peeping devices
Asymmetrical knowledge in a global battle
Worldwide reach of the battered soldier
Tiny corner of an island nation
Blinded minds flying seeing crafts
Zipping around in random patterns
A show we're not putting up with
Leave the arena with heavy bottoms
Sinking into the lowly podium
Loud louts
Masking their inept heavy reliance
Smug thugs
Tearing down the streets with nil regard
Get away
Fly or
Swim or
Walk or
Crawl or
Even burrow
Any ways possible
Tomorrow we shall touch the jaws of the underworld
The elaborate parade
The confetti
The blasting trumpets
The drumming bass
Displays for the dense holiday makers
As citizens ignore the possible canter
Of a million feet
