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Jack and Jill – a brother's tale


The alarm clock rang shrilly
Waking the sleeping Jack
Who with a great moan
Threw the covers back
Expecting very soon
A bang at the door from Jill
With that cursed bucket
To drag him up the hill.
It was the same old story
Day after day after day.
He really wished he had the guts
To up and move away;
But with mother having gout
And Jill the little tart,
A different bloke every night
Just breaking old mother's heart.
And then there was her violence
Like the time she pushed him down
And he was lucky to escape
With just a broken crown.
The water had been cut off
'cos they didn't pay the bill
But mother wouldn't tell the law
It had been nicked by Jill
To buy gin and wacky baccy
Plus a line or two of coke.
Having such a sister
Really was no way a joke.
It was the withdrawal symtoms
Now causing her violent ways
But at least she'd been sober
For nearly thirty days.
So now she played the martyr
As they dragged daily up the hill
For their drinking water because
Mum still couldn't pay the bill.
He'd tried to placate her.
Oh lord how he did try
But she just put the knuckle in
Sorely blackening his eye.
Her knock came at his door
And fearful of being late
He leapt out to meet her
Just a martyr to his fate.












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