Monday, December 16, 2013


Just like Shirley Valentine
you are after a good time.
Your husband's sure a swine.
A Greek waiter'd do you fine.
Pack your bags for an affair.
Black stockings, sexy underwear.
You'll go flying over there,
middle-aged and in despair.

The girl was from Wood Green
way back in the 1970's scene.
She'd refused to go to school,
became and idler and a fool,
and then she foresaw her fate:
a squatter within Notting Hill Gate.
She decided to bag a local baker.
Pretending to be 'The Pill' taker,
the girl a bun the baker got
to place in her oven. Acted hot !
So into some money she wed.
Lazed every day in their bed.
Gave birth to a half-baked-son.
Idle-boned-and-brained like mum !

Rolling along the Thames
like the Three Men In A Boat,
here I cruise aboard a ferry,
to the left, behind me, I note
Big Ben is sounding out
and 3 O'clock is struck.
Each man has his hour.
All roll till their time is up.

It was while in Pattaya
I was treated like a celeb
when I walked into a bar
which suddenly became a web.
A bar of Thai ladyboys,
I'd walked in the wrong den.
A damn sure sticky situation,
It was The Kiss Of The Spiderwoman
that came to mind, so caught
among the third-sex these.
But my way out I fought.
Surrendered to a female Siamese !

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