The sun was warm, the passion too, in the blue sky above. a chopper hovered.
There were 700 thousand there plus god knows how many more that hadn’t bothered.
Travelling from near and far to gather by the home of the winner at Waterloo.
The young, the old, the left, the right, the poor the rich, all included me and you,
United we marched, we sang, we chanted, exchanged an opinion, an individual view.
A desperate attempt to secure a future for the pensioner, the child, for all, for me for you.
We want our say before that drawbridge lifts, the portcullis falls, and they fill the moat.
No terms yet clear, disaster threatens, what hope? One final cry, our demand for a People’s Vote.
