The Lockdown Song

I want to ‘social distance’ from my kids

because they’re driving me fucking insane.

I want to punch the knob-heads in Tesco

who won’t follow the bloody one way lane.

I’m sick of being on a carousel

of snack/meal/snack and ‘Mum!’ ‘Mum!’ ‘Mum!’ ‘Mum!’ ‘Mum!’

And there’s not enough shitting loo roll left

on the shelves to wipe my bastard bum.

 

It’s the Lockdown Song, the Lockdown Song,

And if you’re going crazy too, feel free to sing along!

 

‘Teaching’ simultaneous equations

that I’ve not done for thirty sodding years,

With no option of drowning my sorrows

at the pub with a few ice cold beers.

Fringe too long, monobrow and boobs left braless;

Grey roots, a tash, a gut that’s here to stay.

‘Making the effort’ is getting dressed by noon

and giving my ‘pits a half-hearted spray.

 

It’s the Lockdown Song, the Lockdown Song,

And if you’re going crazy too, feel free to sing along!

 

I’m paranoid about leaving the house –

is it ‘essential’? Is it going to be fine?

It’ll have to be – the choice is quite clear:

throttle my kids or the shop to buy wine.

Am I allowed to walk to the butcher’s?

Can my ‘one a day’ be split into two?

And if I’m walking the dogs and need to

return for a wee, what am I going to do?

 

It’s the Lockdown Song, the Lockdown Song,

And if you’re going crazy too, feel free to sing along!

 

Planning meals each day is a chuffing chore,

a big, bollocking, fuck off disaster.

‘Pasta surprise for tea, kids!’ I call wearily.

‘What’s the surprise, Mum?’ ‘No fucking pasta.’

‘Homemade pizza, then? Or Yorkshire puddings?

Maybe a tart made from apple or pear?’

‘Nice try, son – packaging’s all from China

so the sodding shelves are all bastarding bare.’

 

It’s the Lockdown Song, the Lockdown Song,

And if you’re going crazy too, feel free to sing along!

 

I move my children away from people

as though they have leprosy or the plague,

Avoid eye contact in case that’s catching –

Polite interaction’s become very vague.

I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s all over;

I’ll be an alcoholic, social recluse,

People will need to approach with caution,

tranquilliser gun and restraining noose.

 

It’s the Lockdown song, the Lockdown song,

And if you’re going crazy too, feel free to sing along!

Share

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.


*


%d bloggers like this: