The Rock.




Elvis Presley from Mecca,
bingo to you son,
let's have some fun.

Nursing a single decker,
up the steep high street,
gloom and the wreck of time,
here and there a bright sign.

Like Blues for luck,
patience and the cup.

The lone star arrow,
stuck in the board,
mighty and gentle,
the bin bag crow called.

I didn't mean to hurt you,
the last of the Cape Hill, Brew X1.

Halfway to heaven,
your lottery number is Severn,
beef stew and barley time,
thanking that crime, fidelity.

A soldier in the Havelock,
hands the Rock, on socks,
a goat in the back garden.

Father Christmas comes again,
the fair grace and wishing men,
the Mrs. laying the fire.

~