Driving along the highway
You may turn up a city street
Or a long lost borderland by-way
There are people you're sure to meet:
Where you see there's a sign, "Diversion,"
Or "Road Closed Ahead," or "Slow,"
Then you know there's a squad of workmen
Digging holes round the contra-flow.
There are gas pipes that need replacing
Worn out and beginning to leak
There are underground streams that need tracing
Where the basements are mouldy and weak,
And electric cables are rusty
There will soon be no heat and no light,
And the cable TV needs more capaci-tee
So why are these workmen on site?
We're digging for buried treasure,
Yes, that's why we're shovelling dirt,
We're out in this filthy weather
With a sign saying "Men at work,"
We've an ancient map on a parchment
It's more than a century old
And a big red cross marks a big oaken box
Full of rubies and silver and gold.
Over concrete, tarmac or gravel,
And whichever way you go,
Should you go on the path less travelled
Or prefer to go with the flow,
There are bulldozers, cones and barrows,
And, standing among them, you'll find,
Wearing hard casqu-ettes and yellow jac-kets
A team with a purpose in mind:
We're digging our way to Australia,
Where there's kangaroos, beaches and beers,
Oh, so far we've been a failure
But we've only been digging five years.
We'll live out a life of pleasure
We'll cut a stupendous dash
When we sell off Captain Kidd's treasure
And stand up to our ears in cash.
Tell me why these workers labour
With their wheelbarrows, buckets and drills?
Are they looking for zeppelin airships
That went down in a raid on the hills?
Are they building an Anderson shelter
'Cause they might bring back World War Two,
Is it reservoirs, dams, or a track for the trams,
What on earth are they trying to do?
We're abolishing unemployment,
Every month, there's more people in work,
We are all on zero hours contracts,
So we make David Cameron smirk.
We are really a house divided,
And each one of us has a twin:
Half of us work at digging the holes
While the other half fills them in.