I think I’ll get the paper,
I think I’d better wait.
I’ll hear the news at six o’clock,
That’s much more up to date.
It’s just like last September,
Absurd how time stands still;
They’re bound to make a statement.
I don’t suppose they will.
I think I’d better stroll around.
Perhaps it’s best to stay.
I think I’ll have a whisky neat,
I can’t this time of day.
I think I’ll have another smoke.
I don’t know what to do.
I promised to ring someone up,
I can’t remember who.
They say it’s been averted.
They say we’re on the brink.
I’ll wait for the New Statesman,
I wonder what they think.
They’re shouting. It’s a Special.
It’s not. It’s just street cries.
I think the heat is frightful.
God damn these bloody flies.
I see the nation’s keeping cool,
The public calm is fine.
This crisis can’t shake England’s nerves…
It’s playing hell with mine.
By Sagittarius (Olga Katzin), 1939.
Content from our partners
Related
