The long queues to get in, as the rest watch the numbers on the news getting called
The clicker in the hand of the bouncer of heaven’s door
No list, no questions, no search. Always room for more
They are the victims

The old man in the shop getting what he wants
Pick it up, put it down, touch face, finger change and mumble aloud
I was in the war, I’ve seen worse before, what’s all the fuss about
He’s a victim of his past

The angry woman one meter away
Overtime, overtired. One per person, but I’m buying for ten
I’ll smack that man if he says that again
She’s a victim of her heart

The young girl who hasn’t left the house for days
Drink water every fifteen minutes, wipe it down, wipe it down
There are so many thoughts in here I think I might drown
She’s a victim of her worries

The young man getting on the tube
No symptoms, no problem, no flies on me, I’m fine
All travel is essential, when it is mine
He’s a victim of his arrogance

The business ‘leader’ who won’t shut the doors
Press release, well worded retort, thoughtful pause
Dress an opportunity up as a fight for the cause
He’s a victim of his greed

It’s the best of people, it’s the worst of people
Love, hate, demonstrate, clap, skype, swipe right, wipe
Another lap of the kitchen, pour another brew 
And don’t become a victim of what you’ve been through

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