The failed European social experiment of being ruled by unelected bureaucrats in Brussels is coming to an end. But it was good while it lasted.

From the frozen Arctic Circle
To the warm winds of the Med
From the plains of Eastern Europe
To the Channel they were led
By the shamans and the grifters
To the Land of Sparkling Wine
Where the straw was turned to gold and
Silver Fruit hung from the vine
To the Land of Full Employment
Where the State took every care
Just to see that all were happy
And no cupboard would be bare
And the people raised Colossus
To a height that ne’er was seen
Where the clouds formed at the navel
And the cloak was always green
For the Spring was always coming
Warming days and pleasant nights
And the people took the silver
And the gold as their just rights
And they builded them a Fortress
Lest Reality come forth
Letting ice and snow come flying
And the wind blow from the north
Yet the Fortress was assaulted
By the growing Winds of Fate
And in panic and in anger
People rushed upon the Gate
Thinking safety lay in walls that
Proved the merest wisps of straw
And Colossus shook and trembled
And in fear the people saw
That Colossus lay in shambles
Pieces strewn upon the plain
Where it lay for generations
Slowly rusting in the rain