The Nothing Much

It’s a funny old place, The Nothing Much,
Now the war heroes are dead
So be sure to take your nostalgia pill
As you shuffle off to bed.
They’re building new houses in Nothing Much,
Thousands and thousands galore
And they’re paving over the countryside
To make way for thousands more,
For the millions of people waiting
And their shiny new cars to buy
Till a window box is all you’re allowed
If you’re getting too old to die.
And there’ll be lots of half-baked elections
So the voters can have their say (Ho! Ho!)
And a bomb or two that misses you
Let’s face it will make your day.
‘Cause in Nothing Much, you must admit
Nothing can ever go wrong
So let’s watch some sex on the Teleflex
As Nothing Much lurches along.
Henry Woolf
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