Saturday 11 June 2011

A HAUNTING BY JIM BYRNE

I spotted thee muther int middle ot neet
Hers bin dead ten year,her gid me a freet
A thowt wid geet burglers, Were sendin fot bobbies
It were thee muther knittin, Doin er hobbies

House wants doin ya big lazy oaf
ger out o yer pit, Go gerra loaf
nows not covenient, Call again later
I`ll haunt thee forever ya big fat taater

Her nagged me in life night noon and day
Her still does it now in much the same way
I`ll get one o they excorsists That`ll doot trick
Ill gid her a whack wit me big walkin stick

Her thinks i`m stupid, She knows thats not true
She flings things at me,Usually me shoe
I`m nailin them down,Cos when tha`s gont sleep
A clout round the yead with thee shoe makes thee weep

I`ll have the last laugh, She doesn`t know it
I`ll have five excorsists waitin,She`s blown it
What she`s got comin is down to herself
How dare she still nag, She`s jealous o me wealth

Copyright  James Byrne

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