Well Iâ??ve got a dead leg from kicking myself
For letting our friendship fade away
Aloysius Umbongo Nâ??Danga Oâ??Reilly
Is hot on my heels with calamity powder.
I saw you in Hoylake, edgy as ever
Up on the red rocks a-whooping and a-hollering
Six civic dignitaries â?? idiots all
Heading out to Hilbre: I wouldnâ??t go that way.
Dickheads in quicksand an hour from now
I should have a word but Iâ??ve not had me dinner
A place on the promenadeâ??s got what I need
Do I scream for the beadle or go for the ham?
Do I go for the ham?
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma.
Flushed is the face that you hide in the lace
Of your motherâ??s mantilla, a bilious affair
Iâ??ve got a picture which nobody needs;
A picture of Lord Gort in his underwear.
Out of the ordinary into the drains
Over the marshy Berwyn
Ever the denizen never the norm
Thatâ??s all very well but youâ??ve still got to eat.
Iâ??ve heard Arthur and Omegaâ??s â??All You Can Stomachâ?
Is far and away your best bet
You can eat in or take away
Your call, what do you say?
If you snack on the hoof youâ??ll still get to catch
The massed ranks of the RNLI
RNLI.
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma for the Booker Prize guy
A baguette dilemma.