They pine for days that never really were
Through nicotine teeth and stale ale slur
Where blackface clowns and monkey chants
Still echo loud in bitter rants
Winter snow was whiter, summer days so long
They hum some half remembered song
No climate lies, no “woke” offence,
just ignorance dressed up as sense
They clutch their flags like sacred skin,
wrap rot and rage and hate within
A pint, a bet, a Brexit cheer, the future\'s bleak and still they sneer
Stagnant days spent waiting,
wishing something meaningful to happen
Pints, regrets and the stench of gammon