For Tomorrow

For Tomorrow 

Waiting for a future that replicates the past

A sepia-tinted memory of a country that never was

They stand there with their little flags, and their festival hats

Shouting Rule Britannia and brandishing Union Jacks

They wanted their country back, from who they weren’t quite sure

They wanted money for the NHS and more jobs for the poor

They didn’t want the immigrants who farmed the food they ate

They wanted them all gone please, tomorrow was too late

They aligned with the rich and powerful, to sock it to elites

They wanted their Independence Day, they wanted to be FREE

Who was keeping them prisoner we cannot know for sure

But the sovereignty we always had, well that sovereignty wasn’t pure

They waited for tomorrow when all their dreams come true

Their desperate hope for something, made them change to Tory blue

And so it is the future, and tomorrow is today

What will become of Britain, and will they get their way?

A cake soaked little island or a truly global state?

One which hoists the drawbridge, or opens up the gate?

And what of all the protections that could easily be lost

All for an imagined future past,

                                                   was it really worth the cost?