Real Skint
Those who write for profit
& those who right for gain
Never had it in the first place
They’re all the fucking same
Those who write for profit
& those who right for gain
Never had it in the first place
They’re all the fucking same
Not since it coughed thrice
Cleared sick sinister Niles
Gizzards full of bile
Slimy sotto voce
Logo a la mode – but soft!
It is returned (if only
For a little while…)
Smith makes a double ton:
not since Bradman in’38
achieved by a floppy green.
The game has evolved.
The song remains the same.
I salute you, sir!
Everyone is loved
Does the curlew wish sometimes
Eager for regard?
Prima donna nightingales
decimate the yard
Quietly survive
Polishing awkward
Neat facial features