Middle-class Heroes

"hello...

What have we here?

A young lady!

To what do i owe this pleasant surprise, my pretty one?

How may i be of service this dark and wintry night?

Ah, i see. you wish me to look into the future... your future.

After gcses, a-levels, university...

After your first badly paid job in advertising...

Okay, my pretty, just cross my palm with plastic,

And i'll see what i can do...

Wait!

The fog is lifting!"



I see oriental paper globes

Hanging like decomposing cocoons

While exotic candles overload

The dusty air with their stale perfume

And i see lentils, beans, seaweed and rice

In jars on the windowsill

And it ain't hardly enough to feed the mice

Running behind the lines of allergy pills



All these things will come to pass

When heroes of the middle class

Face up to their responsibilities



I see an indian fertility god

He's got thirty seven limbs to spare

And tasteless tie-dyed tablecloths

That double up as evening wear

And i see naked bodies twist and turn

On the futon of dreams fulfilled

But their three-year-old kid seems unconcerned

He'd rather swallow all those allergy pills



I see unspeakable vulgarity

Institutionalised mediocrity

Infinite tragedy

Rise up little souls