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Crusin' For A Bruisin'‘You're pushing your luck you know!' Me landlord said to me, When all I asked of him… Was, could he make me tea! ‘You're cruisin' for a bruisin', Is what Mr Andy Meladdo said, ‘f you don't watch yourself me girl, You just might end up dead!' ‘Well hells bells landlord!' I shouted, ‘What's the do with you? nyone would think I asked a favour, Of summat you can't do! Well you can cook and clean, I know this to be fact, Cos after all, when said and done, Your Mrs aint got no tact! She tells all about you, How you can cook and clean and mop,' In fact, I have to say it, She works you till you drop! But you're only a mere man, So really, what can I say? Except, cya soon, and don't you fret, You can cook me tea on another day!' Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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