The Advertisers Nightmare
There you go without any hope,
You just can’t afford
This deodorant soap,
The body it cleanses
The nostrils refreshes
With everyday life it will help you to cope.
There you go without any pleasure
You don’t drink our beer to enjoy your leisure,
After three days on the skite
You just about might,
Have a few memories to treasure.
Shame on you, you plebe,
You washings not white,
Not hanging on the clothesline flapping and bright,
What kind of mother I ask of you brother,
Can’t tell one biological white from another.
Hello, young teenager you are a sad case
You’ve a bad case of acne all over your face,
People die from acne, friendships terminate,
So spend your last, buy our gunge by the crate.
This latest hit record you really must hear,
Without it you haven’t a chance I fear,
Its got a new gimmick, the group’s really fab,
They carve up their granny on a fishmonger’s slab.
So youth unto yourself be true,
Don’t please the pushers, just please you,
They’ll shape your mind and still your doubts,
Till its the tinsell, not the tree that counts
By Mary Quinn (first published in the Sentinel, No.66, 18 May-14 June 1982)
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