There was only me and him
There in this old fashioned bar
Eying each up you know
The way things are
Over the top of his pint he suddenly said
You can't build a house with a wooden leg
I thought for a suitable while
Not to let the point facetiously beg
Pushing my pint aside I said
You know that's very true
To get enough wood you'd
Need a thousand or two
I'm not sure how many
Maybe even many more
But did you know now
They're building with straw
It's a very cheap material
Makes buildings of taste
And is really a green use
Of an organic waste
He looked at me
In a curious way
Finished his pint
And muttered good day
I noticed his disability
And felt mortified
So embarrassed
I very nearly died
But I suppose deep down
Really I knew
The parrot on his shoulder
Being a good clue
I was alone in that old fashioned bar
So I had another pint of very splendid ale
Then sat there silently
Rehearsing the telling of this tale
