It's question time, the PM listens
Then suddenly he thinks and frowns
'That's such a new idea to me,
I'll go away and write it down'

I move to turn the TV up
But oddly my arm doesn't move,
And there is a familiar feeling
Once again I find I'm dreaming

The social plans fall by my door
'Two years work each at basic graft'
Food and shelter are solved problems
Time is freed for art and craft

I reach to put my glasses on
My fingers pass through lens and frame
Here comes the familiar feeling
Once again I find I'm dreaming

The children stare with puzzled looks
'How do you feel?' the adult asks
And listens, prior to explaining
Why we've chosen certain tasks

It's question time, the PM listens
It's question time