Four Lines That Rhyme

When Stanley Spencer died, was no-one worried
No matter how far deep that he was buried
He'd find a way to climb up through the soil
And resurrect him to this mortal coil?

You sob for love lost from the labouring class
With a heart that's so heavy, so bitter your tears
But the love was not lost in the ten months just past
But was lost in the previous twenty-odd years

Son's dressing up, he looks pretty in pink
Dad's in the kitchen, his arms in the sink
Daughter's out fixing the car with her tools
Mum's on the picket line, breaking the rules​

On the occasion of the 2016 FA Cup final between Manchester United and Crystal Palace:​

Who to cheer today at Wembley's meeting?
One club sent us down with flukes and cheating
The other's filthy rich and so elitist
My position? Revolutionary defeatist

Leaving science by the bye
I know when I'm reflective
That seeing the world through just one eye
Puts life in deep perspective

My eyes don’t focus yet on places
Further than my parents’ faces
The centre of my world’s that breast
Where I’m the sole and honoured guest

It's something I am, not something I've got
Although that may seem a fine line
You can't separate us - oh no, you can not
It isn't Asperger's - it's mine!

New Year's morning, London city
What a warming, cheery sight
Of faces pink and plump and pretty
And smug cos they weren't pissed last night

ONLY YOU can save this kid
ONLY YOU and your three quid
- But think how many kids we'd save
- If all that unpaid tax were paid

Seize the day, Theresa May,
Lock extremist scum away
While you're there, inspect the cell
And lock yourself inside as well