Tiers
The last song
Rows and rows, and who knows
How many tiers and layers,
Lined up in the likelihood,
The inhabitants are stayers.
Tears for fears in arrears,
The rent has to be paid,
Money, money, it isn’t funny,
The golden goose hasn’t laid.
Limber as a cinder,
Keep the home fires burning,
Climbing up the ladder,
To satisfy my yearning.
Now I know it’s time to go,
The temperature is rising,
I’ve made the grade, and I bid,
I find that not surprising.
Tiers appear and tremble,
The Richter Scale is rocked,
Surf in on the Tsunami,
The pollies may have mocked.
As fear nears the fulsome,
Revenge is served up cold,
Tiers of termination,
They are the best, so I’ve been told.
Walking over water,
Past the last parade,
Seeing love is listening,
To sounds of the charade.
When I go, you will know?
And not wonder where I’ve gone,
Echelons of energy,
Tiers of the last song.
© David Rudder
2023
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