Song: Doin' Time Poem by Dave SmithWhite

As if we done crime, we're all doin' time.
The stretches that go on, forever.
Is it true, in this clime,
We can turn on a dime,
And all work as one, together?

Just doin' time, like a sad pantomime;
No spreading of wings in the lockdown.
If there's reason or rhyme,
For a new health paradigm,
I'll chime in with support for my hometown.

If we get out of jail, when Trump jumps the rails,
Will we see the real traits of America?
Or more chasing their tails,
Wracking up epic fails;
Baked-in with the greatness etcetera.

Just out of stir, was that how they were?
Inmates of tragic America.
The bells and the whistle,
Less steak and more gristle,
And the gnostic revealed esoterica.

So just doin' time,
Is less than sublime,
With the lockdowns deeper and graver.
Just doin' time, in the squalor and grime,
Toeing the line for the favour.

So just doin' time,
With mountains to climb,
Like acrobats in a small circus.
When the spotlight has dimmed,
And the fame becomes grim,
We stand at the fourth wall like sherpas.

So just doin' time,
'Midst all the crass and the slime:
Prisoners of magic ephemera.
So just doin' time, with a chill gin and lime,
In a test of resilience and stamina,
Our sins are now laid out on camera!