I’m really not out for an ego ride Till I have the measure of who’s by my side And then I’ll slowly press the pace Lead them into a tacit race
I’m struggling up this hill for now
But when I get to that far off brow
I’ll put my head down, get back in front
That will show I lead this hunt
But wait, wait, I’ve got it wrong I didn’t think they were this strong Perhaps round that corner the road is flatter But there again, why should it matter There is no reason I should lose face There is absolutely no disgrace After all I have nothing to hide I’m really not out for an ego ride.
Black Ice Attribution: By Simon A. Eugster [CC-BY-SA-3.0] Click to view larger image.There had been frost on the ground but we still set out on our way ‘There will be an improving sunny situation’ the forecast did say Despite the cold, a set of eager faces had turned up for the ride It would be a shame to disappoint them, so anxiety pushed aside.
Talk of overcoming adversity was the order of the day We are hardy all weather cyclists, out come what may What’s a bit discomfort from numbing hands and feet When a few hilly miles will soon generate some heat ‘There will be an improving sunny situation’ the forecast did say.
For many miles things went well and the group began to descend And in the sunshine all was good as we approached the fateful bend But it was there the bear trap waited like an invisible device And bikes went down like ten pins as tyres touched the ice ‘There will be an improving sunny situation’ the forecast did say.
The hard road is unforgiving when it contacts human kind Some were punished with scrapes and bruises – others with shaken mind A few less fortunate, had broken their bones like sticks So for them cycling was over till surgeons made their fix ‘There will be an improving sunny situation’, the forecast did say.
The moral of this story is that brains should stay located in the head But pursuit of your enthusiasm can move grey-matter to legs instead Being a hardy all weather cyclist offers much to admire But admiration will not save you when ice puts you in the fire ‘There will be an improving sunny situation’ the forecast did say.
Troll Kings now ride the wave New prophets, the world to save Deadly weapons they now wield Vicious words seed virtual-field Fracking anxieties and discontents Fuelling egos, exploiting vents Thought leaders of the virtual age Putative masters of creating rage Recruiters for intellectual bubbles Silo builders for shared troubles.
So grains of sand can feel like rocks And tiny birds pretend they’re hawks So setting out to make their kill While claiming it is the people’s will Their message is, ‘destroy the nest’ For only they know know what is best And in their silos the people hear Because their world is full of fear.
Farage tapped the English soul Claiming out was his only goal Cameron fell and so left the stage Stoking fires of increasing rage Then Boris made his leader grab But was felled by Gove’s Brutus stab Arise the saviour Come What May “Out means out” was all she’d say.
Because Ed had left his brothers’ Band His Stone of Promises failed to stand So Comrade Corbyn had come to pass Minor Troll King of the working class His disciples dug a deep deep moat On which to launch their leaky boat To hold a Party for times gone by Only true believers need apply Comrade Corbyn denied the link He as Captain would make it sink
General Elections he may not win
But he only existed to expunge the sin
Of heretics from the New Labour sect
So comrades again command respect Come What May had gold struck She just could not believe her luck How all the stars could so align Surely this was a sacred sign.
But now, even bigger kites would fly Enter true Grand Masters of the virtual lie.
Apprentice seducer makes Trumpet call Roaring promises of a mighty wall “Keep them out” became his war cry “Push them out” meant his lesser fry Irradiating patriotism until mutations form So cancerous nationalism becomes the norm And in its magnetic lies and hyperbole Attractive solutions to set them free Spawned post-truths that did so resonate Bypassing any intellectual gate Mind antibodies readied to deploy Nascent dissonance to destroy.
Putin could so rub his hands with glee As such Trumpet notes were his key His virtual missiles now had the range For targeting insecurities of global change Anxieties and prejudices that lay beneath Were nudged now into sharp relief So Clinton fell and she was no more As Trumpet blasted through the door And so the Troll Kings to their surprise Found they had won their mighty prize.
Meanwhile, on East Asia’s stage An angry Troll King paced his cage For half-brother love he had none So he knew what must now be done So Kim Jong-nam met sticky end Flyers’ VX face-cream now latest trend For projecting power and striking fear Into non-believers in leaders dear.
And in Europe too, things look tough As motley prophets strut and puff Promising Utopias by going alone As long as they ascend the throne “Keep them out” is their war cry “Push them out” means lesser fry But making ‘the other’ disappear Removes how Troll Kings focus fear And then new villains must be found “Enemy of the People” become Trumpet sound.
But such Troll Kings don’t exist to lead For it’s ego furnaces that drive their need Populist woodlands must now provide the fuel Where such wolves feed and dribble drool The populus however will prove fickle food For the Troll Kings have so misunderstood That true leaders always put others first Discarding approbation to slake ego’s thirst.
