Omens
The omens are confused, the omens are bad,
They must be all wrong, it’s all going to go mad,
Birds flying backwards, bumping into the trees,
Flowers eating Insects, but spitting out the bees,
The trees aren’t swaying, even in strong gusts,
The branches are still, like granny’s shelf dusts,
The rain is falling sideways, on the dry ground,
Heaviest showers I’ve seen, knocking flies down,
Cats are saying thanks, appreciating their owners,
People are happy, stopping being rude moaners,
They have plenty around, to have a good moan,
Dogs are hounding baths, now made of bone,
The air’s thick with carbon, filling up our lungs,
It’s even breaking my stairs, rotting all the rungs,
The end of the world nears, the omens get worse,
Pyramids are open, releasing the mummy’s curse,
Volcanos are erupting, with hot pyroclastic flows,
When will it all end, nobody on this earth knows,
All least we’ll die laughing, as the worst omens are,
Boris and Trump together, watching it end with a cigar.
Part Dalek 