I heard in the village shop today
That
our milkman Malcolm is gay
No
one apparently seemed to mind
And
he’s never left an empty behind
I heard in the village shop today
That
our milkman Malcolm is gay
No
one apparently seemed to mind
And
he’s never left an empty behind
“Where’s the bloody Torch?”
My wife asked angrily
“I don’t know where it is
Perhaps you could enlighten me”
“Well not without the Torch”
I replied curtly
“Do you want Baby Spinach?
Or Water Cress Dad”
My daughter asked me
And I went completely mad
“For God’s sake just choose one
It’s not Rocket Salad”
It’s not the angle of dangle
That’s the measure of pleasure
It’s the moments in the afterglow
That we ultimately treasure
My girlfriend says she’s working class
And I just have to laugh
As not one of them as far as I can see
Has ever worked in her family
There was a crow sat on a stone
And
there he sat and ate his scone
When it was gone, when there was none
He sat and ate his Chelsea bun
It seems that pornography
Is frowned upon
But I think that’s just all
The concentration