Monday, 21 October 2019

Travels With Fear - poem

Songs / Lyrics

12/8 // Cmaj7 Gm / Bb Gm //

Each day she whispers at you and at me,
Not too loud, or we may disagree.
Who does she target most frequently?
Let's follow her now, and maybe we'll see.

The Wills' shareholders' meeting, row twenty-five,
The salesman (retired) feels barely alive.
"Our savings are here, almost half what I earned,
If we don't get a profit, where can we turn?"

His spouse wrings her hands, blood pressure raised,
Imagines her peers, she's not being praised.
"We need a new car," she informs co-investor,
You don't catch the bus to the bowls club in Windsor.

Fear, she whispers, first in his ear then hers,
She mentions a plan, it's the young people's curse.
With part of their savings they'll buy a cheap house,
They can let it to youngsters who haven't a choice.

But Fear hasn't finished, there's more to her play,
Get the youngsters in debt, a deposit's the way.
A scheme such as this is not heaven sent,
Yes they'll take any job, to pay interest and rent.

Their first tenant's just finished her Uni degree,
Anne's got a first in psychology.
She wanted to fathom the depths of the mind,
But now advertising is her daily grind.

There's twenty-six aisles of sweet, packaged crap,
They used to sell food, but how advertise that?
The spiritually starving are bingeing and bloated,
And if you complain, they say "Piss off, you voted."

Anne can't sleep now, because of her dreams,
"Slavery is outlawed?" her subconscious screams.
But she's there to whisper, there's no rest for Fear,
"There's a long queue of people who'd love your career."

One year later, Anne's started to smoke,
To fathom the depths? she's forgotten, she's broke.
The Wills' shareholders' meeting, row twenty-nine,
The salesman (retired) knows everything's fine.

Each day she whispers at you and at me,
Not too loud, or we may disagree.
We may disagree.

Copyright Peter Fairbrother 
Tags:  poems, lyrics, songs of hope, psychology, consumerism,

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