The gate keepers are there, obese and bored.
Presiding over all who wish to swim,
And anyone's complaints will be ignored
Or handled next week perhaps on a whim.
They've gathered up the money in the box
They've covered all their chips with melted cheese,
They've waited for the whistles and the clocks,
To walk around the pool with covered knees.
A little bit of swimming once a week,
If your child wants to join you have to pay,
Officious, nepotistic and antique
Obey, do what they say, or walk away.
So we turn up and simply play along,
Can't put my finger on it, something's wrong.
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