It hasn’t been too bad for a Friday
My friend Nic continues to send me pictures of the slow painful death of my youthful Friday night haunt!
There was a man from Muddlebro’ whose problems he lay down
Upon anothers doorstep in a distant stranger’s town
But forgetting what he’d come for and in patronising tones
He gave them all his clothes and bread to stop their moans and groans.
‘It’s not your fault where you were born’ – he said all condescending
‘We cannot all be made like me with lots of true blue blending’
‘But never mind, I’ll pass the hat around our gracious nation’
The strangers held their laughter back, remembering their station.