The Red Cross are getting greedy
Not happy to just milk
me in life
They want me to will
them a percentage
Of what should go to
my wife
The Red Cross are getting greedy
Not happy to just milk
me in life
They want me to will
them a percentage
Of what should go to
my wife
I have found in meetings
Where minutes are
taken
Hours are wasted
Unless I am mistaken
My children can never forgive
That interfering Jamie
Oliver
For bring about the
early demise
Of their favourite
Turkey Twizzler
I left two bottles of Whisky
On the train to
Prestatyn
I thought them gone
for ever
Until a nice man
called Glynn
Of the lost property
office
Telephoned me from
Prestatyn
To say the man who
found them
Had just been handed
in
The cynics say of miracles
That they are a scarce
commodity,
If they happen at all
But to my mind
There is nothing more
miraculous
Than the birth of a
child
It may be the most
common placed
Of miracles
But it is miraculous
Nonetheless
All of humankind
Spread across the
globe
Like a single organism
In bacterial
proportions
And this human
creature
This single entity
This living breathing
Multiplying mass
thrives
And its heartbeat is
love
Sing a song of Sixth Sense
Haley Joel Osment
wonders why
He’s followed every
where
By that Bruce Willis
guy