with shots of impertinence
Latin tags
in for a dig
Tutankhamen’s curse
choice of Putin’s verse
bonehead scores a wig
status quo gig
oldies go for broke
3 chord wonder folk
milkshake from a pig
Bayer beware
drugstore fiction pool
what you learned at school
who says dogs don’t care
lend me your ears
mine are full of wax
save on heart attacks
change Disraeli gears
tempus fudgecake
talk of fiddlesticks
famous Oxbridge pricks
mine’s a pint of snake
Spain or bust
see the choke-point Rose
snot below the chin
watch the fun begin
under your nose
refugees it’s self
strangulation time
struggling for a rhyme
bottomless delf
singing songs of six
hundred thousand pence
pockets empty sense
less of your tricks
go home Yank demand
better healthcare jobs
governments with nobs
on where you stand
not this shaky ground
blow up dinghies cross
borders of the mind
cut like your boss
sale on trinkets
best of British bonehead soup
rack of porkies bullock poop
codex-bust of Betty Boop
censor favoured chocolate lube
buy one get one free the tube
better’n a rubric cubed
buttered pancakes by the trope
Action Man with microscope
Supergirl the people’s hope
give your back a mighty rub
buy this wonder wormwood scrub
female transportation hub
finally the astrolabe
makes a comeback what a gave
at Cinderella’s
there were fathers
sons
mothers daughters
all
manners what a
ball
some with their
guns
tiers of monied
folk
settling debts
polite
speeches terrified
teachers &
woke
preachers quick to
bless
newlyweds divorced
parents those with
forced
smiles to address
aunties drinking
cold
sober uncles bad
dancing masters sad
music on hold
yes the party
swung
canapés consumed
quietly I fumed
foot on the rung
Gringo County blues
acres of vacuous pfaert
factory hooters greet the day
nay it’s cockerels doves & bray
donkeys who start
up yes they don’t have to work
dogs & all the countryside’s
one machine but who decides
hands up the jerk
that’s responsible y’know
take a goodly piece of mind
you that ring the tocsin why
seven & blow
eight then nine or ten o’clock
sacrilege of beauty sleep
let the morning hours creep
out with the cock
Sunday should be special stay
bedside until noon at least
snoring till the midday feast
breaks like the day
no fool me
had a quiet word with God
said they’d made a small mistake
never mind for heaven’s sake
leave it to Plod
so I told the Chief Police
Man the crooks have got away
get your guys to earn their pay
less chasing geese
but the Colonels had been tipped
off their faces bore no strife
gross contempt for human life
hands up they quipped
still I wasn’t taken in
paid a lawyer overtime
proved saluting was a crime
also a sin
finally I caught the King
tryna sneak a dinghy out
robbed the geezer of his doubt
boy could they sing
X-aisle
if it wasn’t for the ordinary laws
saving homicide & marriage vows of
course
ancient Britons would’ve stayed within
their shores
these are the dictates
what’s the point in dealing with them
other states
double trouble spinning someone else’s plates
then there comes the risk of making bezzie
mates
not on the job Rob
Liverpool was always somewhere you could choose
self reliance over staying in the grove
plus the chance of finding everlasting
love
hanging your robe Jobe
but the century of wars got out of hand
didn’t matter where you came from
understand
more than half the world is sea you gotta
land
somewhere or you’ll drown
by the way you heard what else is going
down
other planets on the cards some Yankee
clown
claims he has the ships to do it but the
crown
jewel yer man snores
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| No Time Before The Mole Is Out! |
