No Future

You got no future,
you got no past.
You got no present
But it moved to fast.

You’ve reserved your name
on a park city bench
Your be wearing charity shop trousers
and a seaman splattered vest

The look on your face
was truly frightening,
In your right hand grasped
a bottle of white lightning

Isolate that isotope
Your neutrons like brandy
Stimulate that frontal lobe
That would come in handy

You’re a product of a government
who let you down
and left you for dead
You spend your days in pyjamas,
and rarely leave your bed.

There’s No Future,
no future,
no future,
for you!