SWAN SONG

Out of his case came General Tom

Onto the knee of Dicky.

Out for his final curtain-call

Doing the dashed and tricky.

Drinking the pint without getting wet

While you’re saying the alphabet.

All dolled up in your moth-balled schmutter.

Saying, ‘gread,’ and saying ‘gutter’.

Getting the laugh with the well-timed pun.

Saying, ‘Who’s a son of a gun?’

Saying, ‘Give us a song then, son,’

Saying, ‘Isn’t he the one?’

Saying, ‘Everyone having fun?’

Then back in your box and put away,

Till the Christmas matinée.

What a bloody cock-eyed existence it is,

Being a bleeding dummy.