As sure as my barnet
keeps growing and growing
The tufts of my neck hair
will most definitely need mowing. .
Like a ghostly shadow,
Forget about shaving,
Monobrows are back in, right?
Standards are dropping. .
Hands up who’s wanting
to add to the brood
To get all kinds of fruity,
really, in this mood? .
As I glance at my reflection,
to observe the decay
The spotty complexion,
from too much chard-nnay. .
Wine and chocolate of late
have become my companions
They don’t get too moody
Don’t answer back
Ask questions. .
The debris builds up ‘round our
precious fortress(es)
A gradual losing of the battle,
Plastic tat in the masses. .
Our dignity weirdly
still holding on by thread,
Safe in knowing
we’ll soon be free
from the homestead .
And as September calls
and we arrive to school
defiantly more furry,
show it off proudly and loudly,
In badge of honour-like glory!
.
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