On being politically correct - Tommy Murray

I’ve just heard the latest rumour

And I hope it isn’t true

That they are going to give whales and dolphins

The same rights as me and you

 

And some would even advocate

Giving them the vote

So canvassers and tallymen

Do take note

 

And at the circus trapeze artists

Must wear protective gear

And the ringmaster will be known

As the site engineer

 

Now if you’re an alcoholic

You never would have guessed

That you’d be an Anti Sobriety Activist

Though you’d hardly be impressed

 

And when it comes to marriage

Or getting hitched up to your mate

Instead of taking the plunge

You just renounced the single state

 

And if you’re an urban outdoor dweller

And homeless to boot

Just remember in certain circles

Mortgage free living is considered cute

 

In the land of political correctness

No one ever died

Neither did they kick the bucket

Or cross the great divide

 

They don’t cash in their chips

Pop their clogs or blow a fuse

Terminally inconvenienced

That’s the term they use

 

 

Like when grandfather went

They didn’t pronounce him dead

Permanently static

That was what they said

 

And some even said

He was mortally ensnared

While a further contribution

Said he was living impaired

 

My personal opinion was that he

Had become permanently stiff

Unofficially of course

He had gone on a trip

 

Yes we live in a world that gone decidedly queer

Where the bin man is now a sanitation engineer

Where if granny was a gossip of undoubted reputation

They’d be calling her a transmitter of

Near factual information

 

And who would ever think

That that if you stumbled from a bar

That you’d be too spatially perplexed

Even to drive a car

 

And I just heard that Santa’s helpers

Have decided to form a union

And are seeking compensation

And disturbance money too

And equal recognition

For every race and hue

 

And I believe they’re not too happy

At being categorised as elves

When vertically challenged

Is how they see themselves

 

As to what to give for presents

Why he hadn’t a notion

That making a choice

Could cause such commotion

 

 

 

Nothing made of leather

Nothing made of fur

Nothing for him

And nothing for her

 

Nothing that might be construed to pollute

Nothing to bang nothing to shoot

Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise

Nothing for girls nothing for boys

 

No wonder then that Santa

Was looking so perplexed

He just couldn’t figure what to do next

He tried to be merry he tried to be gay

But you have to be careful with that word today

 

Which is why I’m so apprehensive

Of what is coming next

Now that we’ve become

So politically correct

 

And guess what they call a fairy

In this crazy world of ours

But a petite airborne humanoid

With magical powers.