Discontinued

The discontinuous
English life
As soon as you die
Everything goes

To the sale
To the tip
To the bonfire
The council rules
That nothing stays
They need everything
Cleared away

To the sale
To the tip
To the bonfire

Even the body
Of the one you love
Is cleared away
By the cold hand shove

To the sale
To the tip to the bonfire

Relatives who pick
And peck at remains
Are left with emptiness
And grieving pains

As everything you knew
Of husband and wife
Gets quickly discarded
By this
Discontinuous
English life

You go to the morgue
More like a thief
As if you were stealing
Your own memories

From the sale
The tip
And the bonfire

To break from the past
In a thunderbolt smash
Into your life
Your love, your past
That goes to the ale
The tip
The bonfire