And after your Prime Minister announces
A conditional plan to reopen society
You begin to wonder if things really
Will start to improve without more suffering
Or will they fall off the edge of a cliff,

Stirring your sleep pattern into stolen moments
About whether you will see your parents alive
And your brother over in Crewe, 
your sister who is running around after them
and her husband and your nephew,

Your friends into blankets of guilt
Everytime you attempt ringing them 
And you worry will you ever speak to them again
Hitching a ride into your worries
Every time you put the phone down

Whether six weeks or six months 
Trapped behind your windows 
Like it was the last place on earth 
Lost in a snapshot negative 
Mistaking your past for somebody elses.