The car goes thump-a-bump
As I shut me eye
And there goes ol Missus Golita
She always smells of apple-pie
Look a little further
Ho, 'tis that monkey of a lad
Truanting off from school he be
Aye, will end up something bad
And who goes in that hansom cab
All clip-clop and shutters drawn
Would that be the military gent
His wife left him, they say, 'is heart is torn
O there comes the postman
Rat-a-tat he sharply knocks
Telegrams are the worst of all
A gentle man, he'd rather be darning socks
Ump! There is a terrible bump
And my brain jumps inside my head
My mum she turns and says to me
What were you dreaming about Fred?
4 comments:
Beautiful and archaic! nice!
Smells of London. Iz ozzum, I can likez!
Nice!
And, yes, it has that old British flavour. Can we expect more? :)
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