11:59

At 11:59PM GMT
All the cogs inside Big Ben* locked up and the,
Hands froze at barely even one degree,
With those affected represented
By the fraction of space in between.
And in a move no one predicted when the PM called a vote,
Essential restorations and repairs of the clock were postponed,
With funds redistributed to what were deemed,
"more desperate sectors",
All beautifully scored by the outcry
Of those who were,
But only just barely, affected.

When the palace fell to disrepair
All wings but one were boarded up,
And though the family had to share a dozen bathrooms,
They found that two were quite enough.
And the MPs who were against it all stood small
And played along without the bottle to oppose,
So they rode their bikes to work,
Brought their lunches from home
And they carpooled to their donkey shows.

And when the powers' real agendas came to light
The voters backs were promptly turned,
And as their parties made like Grenfell they screamed,
"We don't need no water, let the mother fuckers burn!".

And the people thrived
And stayed alive
And they kept their bellies fed,
And when the tyrants died,
Their state funerals were bypassed,
Cause they can't use that money when they're dead.
And by the time the clock struck twelve
The country was doing so well
That it became a brand new symbol
Of how we can pull through the worst,
And it peeled out through the streets,
"we can reach everybody's needs
,and we can profit but we always put our people first."

No longer should we prioritise outdated concepts
And monuments to the past over lives.

You must have lost your fucking minds.