Living in the Skittish Aisles
So many issues on our minds
We’ve become a bunch of quitters
About to be the left behinds
We are a nation grown of mixtures
Once were trading partners true
A language full of languages
Soon to be the trivial few
No longer will they look for us
To be the upright bottom line
We gave it all to be the small alone
This tiny enclave in decline
Curtains closing on our centre stage
No sound of rapturous applause
No flowers for the leading lady
Who took the keys and locked the doors
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