A recurring nightmare

 
Here I am stranded in the mare,
a couple of centuries from anywhere
dancing with the times and Fred Astaire.
I could be in Ibiza- but I don’t care,
this place ain’t fun… or fair.
Lets go Wales watching… it’s still there.
Should have liberated here not Iraq, under Tony Blair!
All I can do is stare
at the ghost of Christmas past who’s lost his hair.
All my sins have been laid bare-
we all have our own town shaped cross to bear!
Some people call it a recurring nightmare,
I call it- Wester Super Mare!