Class war

Dash it all, I’m fit to bust,
Never been so bally cussed!
My reputation is in tatters,
and everything that matters
has gone sailing down the
drainpipe of disgust.

How can a chap survive
when his little sweetheart wive
was found wrestling with a flunkey
in the dust?

I could maybe bear a monkey
or even p’raps a donkey,
but I draw the line at working-class amours.
How could she stoop so low!
I guess I’ll never know
what my sweetheart sees
in beefy hunky flunkeys.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s