I only put this out a short while ago but it seemed appropriate for today. I think she’ll stagger on for a while yet with the knives sticking out her back. They haven’t got a replacement, haven’t got a different direction, haven’t got the time, haven’t got anyone else who wants to take the blame for the farce and simply haven’t got a clue.
She’s dead but she don’t know it?
She’s dead but she don’t know it.
The knives are poised
But they won’t show it!
She’s still walking, still talking
But the jokes are thin
The tension’s grim
And they won’t blow it!
‘Et Tu Brute’
She will cry as the blow descends.
The coup de grace
To make amends
For the poison
Behind the scenes,
The toxic brew
That killed the dreams.
She’s dead but she don’t know!
What you reap you will sow!
I won’t be sorry to witness the blow
I’ll just be glad to see her go!