David Blunkett Announces Plans to Curb Our Civil Liberties
There is a street,
And a car going along it.
It is night-time
And our eyes follow its rear-lights.
Is it a car bomb or belong
To some innocent we should let
Drive out of our sight?
And seeing, are we implicated,
With the complicity of the witness?
Do we too merit arrest?
We walk the streets now, tense with suspicion,
Train imaginary cameras on the back of our necks,
Censors of ourselves,
Guardians of our fellow-citizens,
Slaves of our sad embattled state.