There's

There's a nasty war in Vietnam,
And the horrid G.C.E. exam,
With many a very dimmed sloth,
Growing hair to protest about both,
With lots of new washing machines,
Keeping the faces powdered and cleaned,
Of middle-classed people with money,
And dark lanes to comfort their sonny,
Who needs the money for fags and things,
Like watching the postman as he brings,
Holiday brochures of luxury,
As in the one hour films on T.V.
Where living is free without a mar,
And nice sleek types have a sporting car,
To act like people in good adverts,
With contacts and ever so white shirts,
To whom "in touch" types keep saying "yes",
Never mind - remember it's progress,
To somewhere or other, quick or slow,
But exactly where – um - do you know?

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