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In Darkest Bogoland


There in Darkest Bogoland
Everything looked the same
So a chap took some pride in
The pronunciation of his name.
At times lives had been known
Almost to have been the cost
If shoddy diction caused
The odd diphthong to be lost.

Need  for distinction reached
An urgency almost of despair
For in Darkest Bogoland
Nobody willingly lived there.
It was the end of the road
Where careers went to die
Some just gave up but
Some still at least did try

Sandy Jack Willoughby Brown,,
He of the false lower limb
Reacted with a pride in
The distinction it gave to him.
Today he was  unveiling
Modified model number three
The only prosthetic known to
Play opera in almost any  key.

One last swig of gin and it
And then, vainly proud,
His leg a source envy,
He stepped into the crowd.
The effect of Opera adding
Distinction all around him
As if blasted loudly from
Quad speakers  fitted in his limb.

For there  in Darkest Bogoland
Where it all looked just the same
A chap took pride and effort
To add distinction  to his name
The last outpost of the Empire
Mems and Sahibs still held sway
And they celebrated with fervour on
Empire and Commonwealth Day.

And every Memsahib stood
With pride swelling in her breast
Secure in the knowledge  she'd
Helped her man  to do his best,
There in Darkest Bogoland,
Where they tried to decide
If a chap had been promoted
Or his career was on the slide.


  








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