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Gift Of The Gab…I've been called many names in the past, And affrays I've had a few, I can stay up there with the best of them, Cos me gob know's what to do. I can beat people with words, And me poems are very expressive, I can knock you flat, just like that, Without even getting aggresive. Now me poems are very well known, Almost as much as me gob, If I was well and able, I'd have a cracking job. I'd use me gift of the gab, And knock out me rhymes by the score, And sit in a great big office, With me name on brass on the door! When anyone knocked I'd shout, 'entre,' And sit so refined in me chair, And ask for a congac and coke, With a flic and a wave of me hair. Then I'd ask for a coffee, And a mint to soften the taste, And answer the phone in me poshest voice, Saying, what's up duck? Post haste. At 5O'clock I'd depart, And say, 'tara now, I'm off!' Hail me a cab, say, 'follow that bus!' And pretend that I'm a toff. But, what can I say? I'm a scouser through and through, And honest, I'm only joking, Cos I wouldn't have a clue. I'd rather be little old me, With me gift of me gab and me patter, Reading me little old poems, And having a ruddy good natter! Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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