Blues and Two's
Lights and sirens fill the air,The traffic knows not from where,The big yellow truck makes it’s way.Against the clock, they’ve been set,Eight minutes from anywhere,They go by road, not by air.How can that be fair? Crew on scene,Scissors out ,cutting shirt,The pads go on,Stand clear ! Stand clear!Electric shocks course across the heart,Hoping for a pump re-start.An output shows, Hooray! Hooray!They’ll all meet another day,To reminisce how close he came,To God’s eternal bliss. Hypodermics into those so near the final door,Brought back to breathe again once more !But no vote of thanks the medic gets,See it’s spoiled their trip,One can scarce believe these ungrateful gits. The fellow that’s punched the wall again,Only has himself to blame.For the ambo crew, it’s part the game,To visit the lame,Who damaged hand through lack of restrain,Saving lives, treating pain,Without much by way of financial gain. But here’s a dreadful irony,Old lady with chest pain,Waited too long to make her plea,Didn't want to be a bother, see,That’s it for her, no crew to send,She’ll not be on the mend,Arrest she will and depart this earth. So thanks a lot for paying taxes,But the fist versus wall got in first,He’ll be out tomorrow to slake his thirstAnd no doubt repeat the act again. No end to the night shift, or the day.No sleep and overruns,Attending drunks and over-anxious Mums. Another call comes into Control,A baby blue with seconds left.Two breaths in, start compressions.Two fingers, middle chest,Do it now! The caller’s told,Tis time for someone to be bold,In 999 it’s life and death,Except when some twat has drunk too much. But it gets worse,The politicians far behind the lines,Dictate that people power doth prevail,O’er common sense, respect and decency,And indeed responsibility,They set the targets that mean nought,Its votes they want, they can be bought. God Bless the Emergency services.