There’ll be oodles of time to go shopping,
Move house every day if you like.
Popularity-wise, you are dropping,
So go out for a ride on your bike.
Not stuck in the glare of the spotlight,
You’ll have freedom to do what you will.
And though you may feel it is not right,
Your options are pretty much nil.
Shortly, you’ll drop out of favour,
Your face only dimly-remembered.
No longer the newspapers’ flavour,
You will have been out-Djemba-Djemba-ed.
But sure, if you wanted to talk, man,
International weekends are the best.
There’ll only be you and the Corkman.
Now why does that make you depressed?