A poem by a Shetlander:
Such a parcel of sheep in a nation
We live in a land wealthy and free, with healthcare and
welfare for all.
But it’s not enough, to have all this stuff; we must answer
the nationalist call.
The grass will be greener; our streets will be cleaner, high
wages and zero inflation.
No need to explain, everybody will gain, such a parcel of
sheep in a nation.
We’ll get handouts aplenty; we can retire when we’re twenty,
mortgages at 0%.
Or if we so choose, get a cottage in the mews, with oil
money paying the rent.
We’ll share out the wealth and improve our health, oil will
be our salvation.
We’ll stop growing old; we’ll have streets paved with gold, such
a parcel of sheep in a nation.
Don’t ask me how we’ll defend ourselves, or what we’ll use
Just have faith and follow me, to the land of milk and
Practice your rants and racist chants, as you take a small
And collect your dole as you head to the polls, such a
parcel of sheep in a nation.
The results will come in, we’ll be wearing a grin, our dreams
have come to fruition.
We’ll pour another and toast our brothers, and gloat at our
new found position.
As our hangover clears we’ll awaken to fears last night was
a big celebration.
In the cold light of day it’ll be time to pay, such a parcel
of sheep in a nation.