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

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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

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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.

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Thank you

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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

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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

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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

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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?

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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.