The owl and the pussycat went to Crewe On a beautiful Virgin train; They sat in a carriage with hooligan damage, The slash marks of knife-wielding plain. The Owl looked up at their luggage above And saw that it too had been knifed; “O lovely pussy,” he said in a panic, “I very much fear for our lives, Our lives, Our lives,
I very much fear for our lives.”
Pussy said to her mate, “These journeys I hate, There’s danger in every mile; So let’s move up-market and not be a target, In case we some base villain rile.” “But the price of first-class is a pain in the arse,” Said the owl; “And besides that, my dear, The railcard we’ve got won’t allow us to swap; The terms and conditions are clear, Are clear, Are clear,
The terms and conditions are clear.”
So they sat where they were trying not to cause stir, But a punk with a gun and a cosh Said, “I’ll waste you to Hell, and this female as well, If you don’t give me all of your dosh.” About to comply, praying hard not to die, The couple were saved from this fuss, ‘Cause the train then broke down, and they had to get out And continue their journey by bus, By bus, By bus; They completed their journey by bus.
Terrie and the Doctor
My friend Terrie went to the doctor to find out the cause of a pain; he gave her some pills and said, “Next month,
no better, then please call again.”
Next month she went back to the doctor to see what the doctor could find; he gave her some yellow concoction
and told her, “It’s probably wind.”
The very next month she was back there, a small tummy-bulge peeking through; he asked her, “Are you overeating?
Try stopping for a day or two.”
She walked in again a month later, her waist-band this time rather tight. He hummed and he frowned, looking at her,
then told her to jog every night.
One month later, back with the doctor, about meals of banana and cake, he gave her a kaolin poultice;
which she, grabbing eagerly, ate.
She saw him again the month after, her stomach a sizeable lump; he smiled as he reached his conclusion.
“I thought so,” he said, “you’ve got mumps.”
Next month she was sick in the morning, so she phoned in and asked what to do. He kindly sent round stomach powders,
and just for his records, wrote “Flu”.
A month after this, in her bedroom, a beached whale looked never so large; he sagely put her on a diet,
like,“Cut out the butter, try marge.”
At last, with her new babe beside her, and looking as thin as a cue, he said, “Glad that I tried you on All-Bran; it’s amazing what science can do.”
Black spots on multi- coloured background. Odd looking dog, my dalmatian.
Amoebae move in Random swirls. Thing is, are we Any different?
In a cage on a table we keep a canary; Canary we keep is of yellowish hue. He hears nature programmes on our television
And dreams he can fly like the birds in them do.
He hears the birds talking on those telly programmes And wonders why he can’t see them in their flight; And wonders why they cease their pure conversation
When we turn the telly set off for the night.
He chirps, “Please don’t leave me!” but nobody hears him; He cries, “Take me with you; please, please wait for me!” But he stays in the cage for our pleasure, but I know That one day he’ll die - and then he’ll fly free.