Thursday, 9 July 2015

Liturgy for a Tube Strike

Archdruid: The Tube is down the tube.

All: And the lines are out of line.

Archdruid: Tell it not in Gants Hill

All: Proclaim it not in the streets of  Alperton.

Archdruid: For then might cyclists rejoice.

All: And Uber make a tidy profit.

Archdruid: As for me I will wander about near a Thameslink station.

All: The streets of Central London will look nigh unto Shaun of the Dead.

Archdruid: The sun will burn me by day.

All: But if the moon by night, I'm probably never going to get home.

Archdruid: All day long shall I wander about.

All: As things are all different to the Map, when you're on the surface.

Archdruid: But I shall rejoice when I take the trip from Leicester Square to Covent Garden.

All: Shan't waste our time taking that Tube journey again.

Archdruid: Where are now the wise man and the scholar?

All: Claiming to be "working from home" but mostly catching up on some DIY.

Archdruid: Bring me my helmet for my head.

All: Bring me my jacket 'gainst the rain.

Archdruid: Bring me my bike of burnished red.

All: But you can't take it on the train.

Archdruid: Stuff it then. Shall we go London next week instead?

All: Yeah. Smelly place anyway.


  1. From Uxbridge to Upminter the rails are bare.
    Oh, look, no trains are there.
    Pity the commuters all forlorn,
    Walking or bussing and so care worn.

    Those greedy Unions are to blame,
    Calling Borish, nasty name(s).
    Grasping and hungry for ever more,
    Dosh and time off, and perks galore.

    It's time for change on the Rails,
    Time to bring the workers to heel,
    Put passengers first, they pay the tune,
    While workers serve loyally,
    or loose their doubloons.

    A Living Wage is £9 an hour,
    and many get less and are not as sour,
    As those greedy workers on the rail,
    Whose selfish is virtually blackmail.

  2. Bob Crow's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, but his soul is putting its feet up.


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