The Lady is for burning

The Lady is for Burning

We could melt down the Iron Lady

But there's no foundry to be found

 We might find it hard to cremate her

 When the coal is all still in the ground
 

Perhaps we could snatch a milk float

And deliver her on our round

Or put out her funeral to tender

And see if we can save a few pounds

Do you think she'll hear voices of angels

Or the baying of the hounds?

Pandora
 Leaving this place for another

Epimetheus, left unwound   

Mike O'Leary - April 2013