Northern Lights
The world is mad? Direction parlous?
Blame Aurora Borealis.
Zimbabwe can't tell wrongs from rights?
Off road? Blame the Northern Lights.
The road map in Iraq is bumpy?
The ionosphere, my dear, is lumpy.
Crowds of Have-Nots, full-fat Haves?
The cloud's misled the world's sat-navs.
The highway is a no-through track?
The sky, mate – all misleading flak.
The third and fourth world in a mess?
It's down to faulty GPS.
Famine? Wars? Disease? The reading
On your signal is misleading:
It's in the sky, the cause of rumpus,
You can't have lost your moral compass.
Of course not. When you count the dead,
Just blame the voices in your head.
