/ Poetry

The Ballad of Mr Smith


Take your mask off Mr Smith it’s safe out here
We’ve washed our hands three times
And changed the poisoned air
You’ll not be catching anything
That is or isn’t there.

Take your gloves off Mr Smith and touch your child
You’ve not seen her for six months
And now you’re growing wild
Take a good long look at her
Before your memories are filed.

Take your clothes off Mr Smith and burn them now
There’s a virus creeping in
And it’s leapt from sheep to cow
There’s no knowing who you are
Why you came to this or how.

Take your skin off Mr Smith and see your bones
There an aching deep inside
That you share with Mr Jones.
Clap your hands while you still have them
And don’t heed the sound of groans.

Eat your heart out Mr Smith and drink your beer
You’re not going very far
You’re not going anywhere.
It’s a hearse that’s driving you
Through the crowds along the pier.

Take your mask off Mr Smith it’s safe out here
We’ve washed our hands three times
And changed the poisoned air
You’ll not be catching anything
That is or isn’t there.

The Ballad of Mr Smith
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