Old John Twain

Old John Twain, quite utterly insane,
Took his pet albino badger for a walk,
A policeman appeared, sporting a red & gold beard,
Shouting, “Stop, honey, we really must talk!”
“No need to be frightened, but do you have a license
for that badger?” John replied, “Cabbage.”
“Cabbage? My, my, what a very odd reply!”
mused the Copper, scratching his radish.
“A badger-walking permit? How on earth can I earn it?”
sobbed old John with a shake and a quiver.
“Fetch me a crab in a coat and then marry my goat
and a new license I shall promptly deliver!”
John did as he was bid – wed the goat, fed it’s kid,
The policeman beckoned, “Now you may pass.”
He performed a pirouette on a cheese omelette
and promptly disappeared – up his own arse.
His freedom assured, John chuckled then roared
He nearly soiled himself, my – he did laugh!
In the Constable’s clamour to legalize his badger
He failed to notice John’s purple giraffe!

About A.D.S.

You are reading the musings of a music-obsessed forty-something who was brought up on The Beatles, lived through Britpop and now spends his time in pursuit of the best music around. This 'blog gives me an outlet to write about the huge number of albums I buy and the many gigs I go to. All of the opinions expressed are my own and if you don't agree with me, then I understand - music is a very personal thing. I like to receive comments, especially if they're nice ones.
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