I’m told to get behind it,
Lay down my arms, don’t fight:
Behold! The sunlit uplands
Are even now in sight.
Come! Join the great adventure
And shape our destiny;
A grand and glorious vision
For those with eyes to see.

No. I will not stand with you,
Won’t rally to your cause;
Won’t help you light your bonfire
Of long-established laws.
Go on and brand me traitor
Or enemy within:
I won’t abandon reason
For fantasies and spin.

I’ll never take your shilling
I won’t march to your drum;
Don’t call me to your colours,
Or summon me to come
And fall in step beside you
Then follow where you lead;
You’re seeking useful idiots:
I’m not the man you need.

Don’t try to keep on pulling
Your wool over my eyes.
I haven’t drunk your Kool Aid
Or swallowed all your lies.
The road that you have chosen
Leads to ruin for this land.
Get thee behind me, Brexit:
Your end is close at hand.


“It doesn’t matter whether you’re talking about passports or people; some of us just don’t think colour matters.” James O’Brien, LBC Radio.



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