Tuesday, May 21, 2024
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Welcome to the Hotel Quarantinia


VISITORS arriving in the UK could be ordered to isolate in hotels under plans to reduce the transmission of new coronavirus variants from abroad. So, with apologies to the Eagles …  

In a dark empty airport
Through the exit I stare  

Warm smell of fresh hand gel
Rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance

I saw a shimmering light
On top of a police van
That whisked me off through the night.  

Matt Hancock stood in reception
‘Follow me!’ came his yell
And I was thinkin’ to myself
‘Two weeks in this place won’t be heaven, it’ll be hell.’

Hancock lit up a candle

And he showed me the way
There were voices from behind each door
I thought I heard them say:  

‘Welcome to the Hotel Quarantinia
Such an ugly place (such an ugly place)
Such an ugly face
Plenty of room at the Hotel Quarantinia
It’ll cost you dear
(And they don’t serve beer).’  

Hancock’s mind is lockdown-twisted
He wavers and bends
He got a lot of dotty, dotty Profs
He calls friends

How they prance for the cameras

Waving their charts
They can’t tell their R-rate from their elbows
The stupid old farts  

So I called up Boris Johnson:
‘Please rescind my confine.’
He said: ‘Shut up or we’ll keep you here  

Till twenty twenty-nine.’

And still those voices are calling from the Corona Suite

Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them bleat:  

‘Welcome to the Hotel Quarantinia
Such an ugly place (such an ugly place)
Such an ugly face

They’re makin’ things up at the Hotel Quarantinia

They tell loads of lies
But they’ll have alibis.  

Economy down the plughole
Normal life on hold
Bojo said: ‘We are all just prisoners here of what we’ve been told.’

And in the PM’s chambers
They gather and they shrug
They stab it with their hypoderms
But they just can’t kill the bug  

Last thing I remember
I was running for the door
I had served my two weeks
And I could stand no more

‘Relax,’ said Nightman Whitty

‘This you may not believe
But we’ve tightened up the rules again
And you can never leave.’  

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Weaver Sheridan
Weaver Sheridan
Weaver Sheridan is a wannabe best-selling novelist, one of his efforts being the Fifties Franny series, available on Amazon Kindle books.

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