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A little word of doubtful number,
A foe to rest and peaceful slumber.
If you add an "s" to this,
Great is the metamorphosis.
Plural is plural now no more,
And sweet what bitter was before.
What am I?
The Thought Police are here. They've come
To put you under cardiac arrest.
And as they drag you through the door
They tell you that you've failed the test.
-- Buggles, "Living in the Plastic Age"
Our sires' age was worse that our grandsires'.
We
💃 -- 🍧 -- 💚 -- ⚡ -- 👹 -- 🐛 -- 📕 -- 🐳 -- 👃 -- 🚙 -- 🌸 -- 🌽 -- 👔 -- 💗 -- 🐝