A bit missing

Having been hoodwinked and done over by every political party that's operated in the UK since 1955 we've now decided to go it alone, off piste, off the radar, underground and all that sort of revolutionary stuff. Enough is enough. We'll live on, long after the phony arguments are dried up and beyond the imminent nuclear winter. We will survive. We'll be here, hidden in plain sight but lost someplace in the green wood. We'll live on root vegetables, autumnal fruits, roadkill and fine wines plus whatever we can pick up from the Coop and Stephen's bakery (both of which we expect to survive the soon to happen social decay, structural decay and rampant tooth decay that will follow the 18th September deadline and disappointment). In some Renaissance kind of post-Iron Age we'll rebuild the future in an exact but maybe slightly disappointing version of the past, without the technical mistakes. So we'll barbecue the planet, log by log and you wont even know we're here; apart from the burning smell, the smoke and the strange but haunting music of our eternally looping Buddha machine wafting across the fields and bye ways. It'll be just perfect once we get that wee extra bit for the chimney put in place.