Oh now there’s an erstwhile director of our health
A master of manipulation and the art of cover-up
He continually denied the cancers, tumours and lymphomas
All arising from the polluted toxic chemical soils of Wentworth Park.
His advice to politicians, their minders and their ilk
Was to follow government protocol like so many dopey sheep.
Unassailable is the safety in numbers when they cover up the blame.
He professed to be a statistician, showed me books that he had printed
So why his lack of skill to find the cancer cluster in the population
of those few small streets in Wentworth Park.
His crooked guile was ever present when discussion at the table
Many papers were presented but no copies to be taken
Just a quick glance was all that was allowed.
When I asked a simple question of the epidemiologist attending
He asked of the director “What am I allowed to say?”
Doctors were no help, their only explanation for the diseases in our midst
Was to talk about the fallout from Chernobyl and other unlikely places in the sky.
The truth can still prevail in matters covered up.
The future is uncertain but the past is never really past.
Where the cancers go uncounted where the wastes had gone unsorted
In the landfills by the shore
Where problems don’t exist if you look the other way.
And where our cherished “children of tomorrow”, good neighbours and our friends
Are lost to us forever with no acknowledgment to this day.