Friday, August 10, 2007

Busman’s Holiday

On our holiday fortnight, I pitied poor Neil,
And could see why this holiday held no appeal.
He sat on his arse drinking beer by the pool,
Listening to music and trying to look cool,
Smoked thousands of fags and spent all of his cash,
And watched as his mother swept up all his ash.
It actually wasn’t much different to
The things that he’s normally likely to do.

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