The thing with the British is we love to complain
About policies and hospitals (and always the rain!)
Upon every white sheet there is always a stain
But never do we ever give thanks that we can
We can say what we like (within reason of course)
We don't see the police as an army of force
We can prosper and rise without breeching the laws
We forget it's not a universal right
To be safe from your family and safe from your friends
To have medicine and schooling and hopes that will lend
You the courage you need to see life to the end
If only it were so.
To all who have made me the life that I've known:
To politicians and activists who worked to the bone
To provide choices and freedom - although some did moan
When democracy began to grow
I've been taught to respect myself and the others
Who live in this world as sisters and brothers
I've learnt from my father and learnt from my mother
Not to take my rights for granted
I have an education, I learn pace by pace
I'm not hated for my sex, religion or race
I can choose what I wear, what I put on my face
But many don't have that privilege
There are those without a vote, with no say in life
Who live as slaves, as property, in misery and strife
In wars, without healthcare, on the edge of the knife
What would they give to be us?
This place isn't perfect, but it's pretty damn good!
Just 'cause we can complain doesn't always mean that we should
Be grateful for once, if we possibly could
We have so much to be thankful for.