Dissect This Body England

This was originally a poem written about Brexit, after the initial surprise/shock I wasn't particularly bothered about the whole thing and tried to ignore it all... I guess this poem/song is about the rather unpleasant characters who surrounded the Brexit process and the nastiness of politics.
'Dissect this body England' also expresses how I feel in these strange times.




Dissect this body England Roll up its doormats Wipe your feet on its tongue Check for breath In case it is not fully dead. Stretch its dreams from shore to shore Cliff to cliff and edge to edge Check the pulse of its story Take the temperature of its myths See the eyes of the people Too glazed to see them. Are they not already dead Who dissect this body England. Who farm out its heart And blindfold all decisions As their cold blades make incisions Those people who Dissect this body England. They roll up their sleeves And dig up our graves And when the country shuts Wear badges that say Jesus saves. But he scored a home goal On the fields of England This new Jerusalem. They dissect this body England Roll up its doormats Wipe their feet on its tongue Pretend everything is right When everything has gone wrong Those who dissect this body England.