Brex-Sick I am utterly Brex-sick of Brexit I am done with the spin and the lies The who, what, where, when and whys The filibuster and heel dragging The name calling and slagging off The voices of reason shot down by vitriol The shocking, mocking go home you Poles And Czechs and Greeks and immigrant hordes, The you're not welcome here, What's here is ours, not yours. I'm Brex-sick of Brexit, throw it in the bin I wonder if Brussels and Bonn and Paris and Rome, Will ever let us back in. Or will we float and drift as flotsam, an economic waste Headed for who knows where in our bitter haste? To be done with our European brethren, Good bye farewell and all that, We'll be in touch, every now and then. When the pot runs dry and the shelves are bare When we again call out, 'Help! Is anyone there?' And comes the riposte 'Non, No, Nee, Nein!... Sorry Great Britain, you had your time'.
Brex-Sick But aren't we all?