Media Creates The News

Martin, what can you tell us?
John: It went something like this:

There’s a flashing light on the Isle of Canaries,
It sends signals to The Island of Dogs.
At roughly 11 Mean-Time, in the house of old Lime,
They launched the first bodies out into the fog.

If you’re just tuning in,
The news that’s just in:

All hell has broken out on the market,
It seems the bull has burst out of the pen.
It impaled roughly a thousand traders,
Then boarded a boat for Gravesend.

Heather Keane is now on the scene:

John, It’s a scene of blood and bullshit,
Jaded traders stand speechless, aghast,
-Seems, the schemes of the pyramid geezers
Jettisoned futures right back to the past.

Literally hundreds of bloated bodies,
Are actually bobbing away on the Thames,
Who knows, perhaps they’ll all float downriver,
And join the bull-rush down at Gravesend.
John-

Thank you Heather, Now the weather -

John-
The fog shows no sign of lifting,
It covers the Docklands like a ghostly caress,
The feint flashing light on the capstone,
Now seems more like a sign of distress.