but under stars we drink in bars
deep blue but we,re in a place
a seven snitch or just an itch but all and done it,s in good grace
but a romaneo courtland a dodgy old portland is he riding for a fall
and "don,t mince the reaper" an ivy a creeper a crumbling or a wailing wall
but before and after appliance of laughter all coquetish on a stair
and matta to flatta but who,s got the platta it,s said that alan,s got the flair
in a dark twisting well (like a hair set in gel) it,s one dark step at a time
as mutters like simon (all butters like dime on) it,s one footstep after whine
until tom he grins like the wolvine he grins
he can be just so cruel unkind
and it,s all just one small mince for man
one big mince for mankind





as we sit on beds armchair . . .
 t,v plays but we just stare

"bunny the boiler" v "jungle the bunny"
we wait for the climax in some way,s it,s funny
as "jungle the bunny" seem,s to have
the action in the can

at least until the second round
 against who else but "whammy pam"

a centuries old fight (a wet t,shirt night) 
it,s just as red as a lemming

no legal as clause no round of applause
 when it,s all fred as a lemming

but we wait it,s not too late
"jungle the bunny" is faves in this round

but "bunny the boiler" well she won,t go easy
we watch we wait  . . .  without a sound