I wrote this a few years ago, but found myself quoting myself to myself, as I listened to yet another, (probably false), prediction of imminent economic revival. Are we "hope mad hatters?", I wondered.
There is a certain pining One might even call it “whining” On the chronoclastic playing of the game A time when glory ate us Preceded this hiatus The self inflicted fury and the shame
We held so high such hopes – of great endeavour But now we sigh, “such dopes – we’re not so clever”
We really thought some daily pain Might relieve the world of its deadly strain And “harmony” was our refrain Which chanted, would one day regain “A world of peace” – we’d make it plain
But no! Our minds have turned to other matters Those dreams were dreams of hope –mad hatters And all our aspirations Were merely sad gyrations Das samadic venture Kapital