Heave Aside Our Plundering Pharoah
At seven Gs
On seven Cs
The pirates ran amok
And who could blame them - in their fright -
For getting somewhat stuck
On that dark night?
At seven bells
The seven smells
Dismay each passing tram
And near derail them - with despair -
For with that reeking dram
We wash our hair
Envoi
To the burghers of Prague
I bid my adieux
And turn to The Hague
Where the folk hate my views
Contributors: | Roland, Apsley, Chevalier, The Empty Vest. |
Poem finished: | 18th July 2005 by Apsley. |