10 Dec 2014

BROADSHEET


The machine is easy to fool
Father I cannot tell a lie
A roasting by the boy
Howling with such glee that
At the time I didn’t realise
They broke away
Far from being victimless
We all pay
They may have forgotten
As recorded in the sketch
Stone cold sober
You’ve blackened the family name
A nation of thieves
With an air of gentle curiosity