There was an old fellow of Kaber,
Who published a volume with Faber:
When they said ‘Join the club?’
He ran off to the pub –
5 But Charles called, ‘You must love your neighbour.’
(to be recited in a clear Welsh voice)
I let a fart in the street and a woman looked round;
I pissed on the fire, and got myself covered with ash;
I had half an hour with a whore and came out in a rash,
So I let my sperm fall in the brim of an old hat I found.
5 I vomited over my shoes in the bogs at the Pheasant;
I slipped in the road, and came down with my hand on some slime;
Life is performing these actions time after time
Till Death makes our body smell worse than it does at present.
What is booze for?
Booze is what we drink.
They come, they shake us,
Time and time over.
5 Beer, whisky, schnapps and gin.
What can we drink but booze?
Ah, solving that question, etc.
Brings the priest and the doctor
(And a few pink rats)
10 Running over the fields.
When the night is hoar
And an owl hoots,
Put this on the door
Where you have your roots:
5 Keep them underground
On the shortest day
When the air is cold
Keep visitors away:
What you have you hold.
5 That’s what this is for.
Put it on your door
Roses, roses all the way?
Lettuces, lettuces, rabbits say –
So I send my love in troth
To Monica, whose life is both.
No power cuts here –
Lots of good cheer!
Those long thin steeds,
And natural downs
So near at hand,
We cannot see,
5 Nor that tiny
Excitement share
In the delicate stand:
We cannot be
Elsewhere than here –
10 And yet, just so
May others stare
On our casual scene,
And cry for pleasure
At the out-of-reach
15 Enchantment there
Though there’s less at wch to purr,
Be my Valentine this year!
In this single life of mine
You’re much more dear than if I’d nine.