In days of old, when life was bold, And schools owned fields and land, We played serene, acted out our dreams, With nothing dangerous being banned, Now we roll in late, grossly overweight, If we even deign to show our faces, And clipboard man with his cardboard plan, Puts us through our non sunburned paces, Now it appears all these stark fears, And dread of falling and disaster, Sold off our fields, while they but kneeled, To a politically correct Grand Master, So though obese, we are at peace, Though consuming rubbish we can smile, Though weighed down we seldom frown Because were much safer by a mile.

What price competition, breeding attrition, What use excellence when some must lose, Theres no Einstein and no Frankenstein Theres just fat drones from which to choose, Successive generations of a nation, Robbed of will to be fit and bright, Brainwashed by day, to their teachers way, Mentally chained to TV all night, We were naughty and lived past forty, And still have our health and mind, For we were schooled to different rules, That seemed cruel but were kind,

‘When warm winds from valleys

Sweep on up mountain side

When thermals are a pumping all around

When birds are all grounded

‘Cause wind’s too rough to fly

Then Macho Mountain Mama’s up there flyin’ high.’