sirens sit on slippery rocks
singing sweetly in kelpy frocks
their vibe so slick
you feel heartsick
and want to sail there pretty quick
ending up wrecked
dead of neglect
seasalt burns, seagull pecked
(lash yourself with ropes to the mast
carry on sailing safely past)
leaders stand in public view
reading words from an autocue
their schtick so slick
you feel heartsick
turn off the TV pretty quick
ending up cynical
hypercritical
of anyone sounding remotely political
(check the facts, the social environs
vote for genuine people not sirens)
jim clayton 