I was having a conversation with a few friends at a public drinking house on the weekend, and I am afraid that the two pints of Guinness I consumed unlocked the ranter within. We discussed some of the bad stuff going on in the world, and some of the views opined inspired me to compose this little poem.
A Bucket Of Sand For Your Head
A bucket of sand for your troubles, a bucket of sand for your head,
Carry it 'round wherever you go, gravelly goodness not just for show;
If reality rears its ugly head, you can always just play dead,
Those silicone beads will cater to your needs, hiding the harm in your way,
So take my advice and don't think twice, a bucket of sand for your head.
It will all be okay, we will find a way, man's ingenuity conquers all,
We've a mystic mandate, the world on our plate, nothing will stand in our way,
No obstacles here, no need to fear, no hint of the inevitable fall,
Darwin's extinction of species is just so much faeces, not affecting us,
We'll soldier on, continue the con, with buckets of sand for our heads.
The miniature quartz will hide the warts, no blemishes on our skin,
No need for attitude, replace it with platitude, it's so much easier then,
No hard questions, no indigestions, there's no way our race won't win,
Just place the bucket and sound the tucket, safe in our dune of delight,
All senses soothed, all worries smoothed, with buckets of sand for all heads.
The hints of doom, the tidings of gloom, none of it filters through,
It's quiet in here, no disaster is near, and the sand is nice and warm,
I might take a nap, no reason to flap, I can't taste trouble's brew,
There's no reason to panic, to behave oh so manic, the glass is always half full,
I'll enjoy the view, and right on cue, use a bucket of sand for my head.
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