CARRY ON UP THE ANTE

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbours ass
Well I'll be buggered by the hysteric mass
From whence she came
With all the grace of a ticket tout
The sheen of never wanting for nowt
With the crowd pleasing charm of a carry out
Miss Bristol Fashion began to spout
Of pieces of eight, of consultancy
Postcodes she'd fellate, tight geography

The regime can be cold and play hard to get
But never undersold, never a laundrette
And lo and behold the righteous coquette
With stamina in either line of her pedigree
A willing outlook re: Earl Grey tea
And with a buy to rent philosophy
Got all revved up for the bourgeoisie

But I'm so out of true (Get over it)
I come from Staffordshire (Get over it)
My books are overdue (Get over it)
Got a loosely tuned desire (Get over it)

To have and to hold, to aid and abet
But the fortune it was told by the gin in his sweat
And a hunch it was sold for a manageable debt
He'd often dreamt he was on the tit and not bottle fed
For once face up in the flowerbed
But the champagne it went straight to her head
And so she pulled up her drawers and said,
"I love you -
Now change"

by Robert Lloyd, copyright control