Ode to Spring
Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2011 8:57 pmOh to be in England, is what I often hear,
But why would anyone want to come, when everything is dear.
I can’t afford to buy the lovely daffodils,
I’m saving hard so I can pay, my ever mounting bills.
The tax is astronomical, the rates beyond belief,
I’d laugh if it was comical but I never get relief.
I’m sick and tired of scrimping, to make a decent meal.
No one stops to give a damn, as to how I really feel.
I’d like to fly over No.10 , dropping a load again and again.
And then perhaps they would know, what it’s like in the s—t with no where to go.
Apologies to Robert Browning.
But why would anyone want to come, when everything is dear.
I can’t afford to buy the lovely daffodils,
I’m saving hard so I can pay, my ever mounting bills.
The tax is astronomical, the rates beyond belief,
I’d laugh if it was comical but I never get relief.
I’m sick and tired of scrimping, to make a decent meal.
No one stops to give a damn, as to how I really feel.
I’d like to fly over No.10 , dropping a load again and again.
And then perhaps they would know, what it’s like in the s—t with no where to go.
Apologies to Robert Browning.
