Mill on the Floss

 In olden times floss flowed freely through the countryside

Great rivers of the stuff as wide as the eye could ponder

And the people of the countryside, the poor folk

only had to shove their faces and their entire heads into the river to clean

Their teeth and wash out all the bad stuff and they all had bright shiny teeth

And didn't ever have to pay for dental care

But then one day climate change or else an evil king decided to turn off the source of the Floss

And we don't know where it is so that all could be found lying in the river bed or the marshes was this thin straggly string that folk inventively wound around bobbins and carried with them

Hence why now we have only this meagre reminder of what Floss once was.

The famous author George Eliot once wrote a tribute to the beauty and power of the Floss

Called Mill on the Floss which was in the days when the dental industry was so widely mechanized and industrialized they began making dental drills and tooth milling machines driven by it.

Please read it, it is interesting.

Night Heron

 Night Heron, night heron

Always in the shades

The black sunglasses

The black leather jacket aids

Riding around on your motorbike

You're as cool as a kid on the make if you like

Mending your triumph in the back of the pub

Going out later to the rock n' roll club

Night Heron, Night Heron

Always a rebel to the core

Build up your gang around street corners

Go round knocking on old folks' doors

Then you grow older

And like to start fights

Start carrying a blade on dark Friday nights

Black metal motorcycle club

Black metal heart there's the rub

Revving your engine down a Sunday street

Ruffling feathers if you know what I mean

The other fella's heavier he's tough and lean

But you've got an image to uphold it ain't clean

You've gotta get dirty and down in the mud

You'll never reach thirty, you're covered in blood

As you go droop-winged back to your nest

The black metal heart is not pumping the best

The dark metal shades are broken in two

And they hang from your beak, beaten black and blue

And there's blood in your eye and spit on your face

And your black metal wing is twisted out of place

But you know where you're going because you have to stay strong

You're going to the nightclub where they sing rock n' roll songs

Because you love to jive and dance to the beat

You're still the night heron that's walking the street