Euros

If you change all your pounds into Euros,
At the post office booth down the road,
Then you put all the dosh in your pocket,
And you carry your currency load,
And you change it to pounds at the airport,
And you count all the pounds that there are,
Then you change it to Euros in Tesco,
That’s a bureau de chenage a trois.

Stew

I haven’t eaten much today.
I’ve bought some beef, to make a stew.
I’m lonely, for you’re far away,
So as I eat I’ll think of you.
(Please don’t let this be misconstrued –
I get that it could not sound great.
I’m not pretending you’ve been stewed,
Or that it’s you that’s on my plate.)
I’m lonely, sure, but I’ll be fine,
I think I simply need to eat.
I take a whiff. You smell divine.
Ha ha! Not you! I mean the meat!
I’ve not gone mad! I know the stew
Is lovely shop-bought free-range cow.
I know for sure it isn’t you.
I got confused – I’m not sure how.
It’s beef, just beef, and nothing more.
The Finest range, all nice and fresh.
I’m really, really, truly sure
This stew contains no human flesh.
I don’t know why I chose that phrase.
I feel a bit like things aren’t right.
I’ve not seen you in several days.
I think I’ve lost my appetite.

Buying Clement A Moon

I once bought a present
For Clement the peasant,
A fat adolescent
And constant depressant.
All moon-shaped, a crescent,
Its colours flourescent,
It glowed, iridescent,
And soothed him, quiescent.
And now he’s quite pleasant
And moving to Cheshunt.

Keanu Reeves

Keanu Reeves, Keanu Reeves,
A man in whom the world believes.
He’s Neo, and John Wick, and Ted,
And went on board that bus that sped.

You’re In Dental Space

It’s a dental place.
I’m the dental boss.
You’re in dental space.
Buy some dental floss.
Clean your dental face.
Use these dental tissues.
I’m a mental case.
I have mental issues.

Australia’s Pretty Damn

You’ll soon go away, and I’m dreading that day.
I would follow you there in my car,
But I’d never arrive, as I can’t really drive,
And Australia’s pretty damn far.

Your flight’s drawing close and I’m getting morose,
You’re leaving, I wish you were not.
I could follow you there but my skin’s really fair
And Australia’s pretty damn hot.

I could babble all day, try to get to to stay,
To persuade you Australia’s shitty.
But it’s grey here and shite, and you’re booked on your flight,
And Australia’s pretty damn pretty.