Summertime a Cynical View Poem by Mary Champion

Summertime, and the living is greasy.
Wasps are buzzing, and the temp'rature's high.
The food's too rich, and makes everyone queasy,
with smoke from the barby stinging our eyes.

These are the mornings you're gonna wake up sweating,
tossing and turning all night - too hot to sleep.
But that's all the rest you're gonna be getting -
join the sticky commute to earn your keep.

Summertime, and the living is stifling.
Kid's are whingeing, and the mercury's high.
Go out of the house and the sunlight is blinding.
You're so dehydrated you can't even cry..
No you can't cry.
Want to cry…
But you can't cry.
You can't cry.