To San Frantesco
Where the rest go
To buy and buy
You hear the song from pole to pole
Along the aisles where people stroll
Beneath the seas where currents eddy
And divers have Reward Cards ready
You hear the voices swell with pride
As, round and round, the trolleys glide
And watch the basket as it swings
In branches based on Saturn's rings
In galaxies far, far away
Sweet aliens swipe their cards and pay
While Heaven's cashiers sound its bell
And every little helps in Hell
Where missiles fly and shrapnel kills
Who else but Tesco mans the tills?
When ice-caps melt, with global warming
Where else should queues be slowly forming?
The supermarkets rule the Earth
In morgues and cribs, at death and birth
How else should we confront our fate?
What's wrong with them in Harrogate?