I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

 Oh I could be in Ryad or Rome

I could be in Cadiz or Lyon by the Rhone

But there is no place that I would rather roam

Yes, I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

I could be in Trinidad in May

Or costa Rica drinking from a beaker

On any other day

But it's not the sunny seas nor the cool mountains glades

Oh I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

Shepton Mallet is a winner in my book

You don't need to be a good looker

To see that I've got hooked

It's the way that Collett park just rolls down to the brook

Oh I'd rather be in Shepton Mallet

Sure there are more Rhinos in Botswana

And I'm sure you could find a diamond down in Asia minor

But I know the orient has nothing near or far 

On the shining star that's Shepton Mallet

Oh Shepton is a king among kings

It's even an apple bitten in the chapel wings

It's fluted, suited, double-newted

Well-pursuited, barrel-booted

Queen of queens is Shepton Mallet

Oh I don't say you should never travel

But what you have here and now

Is what's a wonder to unravel

The present is a gift of the swift

and the heart is a land of the past that's never missed

So light em if you got em

and hold your loved ones fast

For there's no place I'd rather be

Than Shepton Mallet

Shit it and Smell it, alright!

The hedgerows

 The cattle are lowing

And the sun has hardly rose

Well the cattle are lowing

And the sun has hardly rose

But I'm still loving my baby

And in my heart my love grows

Well if you're looking for a filling

Well I know where to go

Go outside of the city

And look inside the hedge rows

I've got two hands for making

The good and the bad side shows

I've got two hands for making

The good and bad side shows

But you want a filling

Then go down to the hedgerows

Send them up

 send them up

Oh send them up

Trump send them up there

On the frontline

To see what their war mongering

and cruel words tear

Tear them up

Oh tear them up

Tear them like the world

They've torn

Show them up

Oh show them up

As the cowards they are

Standing behind their big words

Like

Cows in the pasture

All those sycophants

all those irrelevants

Who are truly redundants

Anyways, anywhere

Beyond their time

Outgrown their wine

And their little piece

of prime time

Send them up

Oh send them up

To the front line

That is theirs

Let them die 

In the wars

 that they've wanted in their

hearts

Let them perish

Like the culprits

but the innocents

spare

Midsommer Moot

 There's a city going up in a village

Just on the outskirts of town

It's a cardboard cut out

But it's real, and you'll

fit in if you're a circus clown

There's a city going up,

But it's sinister

Or it's dexter and breaking bad

But I don't want to think of

The minister

When all he ever had was sad

Why not say it's a great occasion

Why not embrace the love

It's not free but neither is a raison

And their raising a city of doves

The whole time is a kind of madness

The midsummer spirit is rife

Even the weather in its moods is in on it

And it's a living the bohemian life

Well, whether the weather's a boheme

Or just a camper's scourge

You've got to expect the unexpected

But be sure all the sin it will purge

The rain is going to wash us clean

Then the sun will bake our bones

And just like a chicken wing

All the flesh is going to atone

But you've got to hold both hands up to the sky

And with one offer up your prayers

And with the other like a dragonfly

Hover until with gratitude you receive your cares

Song without birds

 I listened to the song 

The one without birds

And all I could hear were

A series of hollow words

I felt my life spiralling 

Way out of control

And leant into the wind

Of a hot blowing soul

The song was quiet

The birds were a sleep

Upon their stick nests

Nestled in deep

And nothing disturbed them

Because no-one could speak

When the birds fell silent

At the end of the week

Tuesday

 Tuesday is the longest day

Tuesday, Tuesday

Tuesday is the longest day

That is all I have to say

Give me Monday anyday

I'd rather Sunday without pay

Than waiting all day long they say

For another bloody Tuesday

If you think that Wednesday's good

Then bully for you and may Robin hood

Come and rob you for you ain't no good

But give me Wednesday anyday

Over another bloody Tuesday

Flash in the pan 2

 

The midwives were busying themselves on the ward

The porters were portering, and the waiting patients looked bored

Nothing much was happening, it was the usual rap

When a certain tapping began to tap

The matron cried "Ahoy there! I smell smoke between the sheets,

Either some aberrant's been smoking or there's a fire on the beat."

Just then the fire alarm raised a chilling sound as if to confirm her suspicion

And a-wailey-wailey went the sirens, calling for an intervention

The hospital crew acted bravely and with brilliance 

To remove the maternal mothers to a safer distance

Down the stairs they were evacuated

While around the bed pan macerating machine smoke circulated

Just then the fire brigade rocked up with their hard hats and their hoses

And they told all those locked up to hold on tight to their noses

And they stormed  up the stairwell, to fight the fire they knew how so well

The new mothers stared on with the look of one who had been stunned,

But then they relaxed with the resilience of the matron

But as they charged through the waiting room lane

A man decided to come down with an attack of chest pain 

The matron called for calm and order

So that her nurses could help the unfortunate border

Who had already had to wait to be seen

Now he had been seen he couldn't wait to leave

So what with fire burning in the upper quarter 

The mothers were gathered down at the breakwater

Of the emergency waiting room doors

But you know when it rains it never rains but it pours

And all these things were sent to try us

Including bed pan macerating machine fires

And before you ask if you can use the can

You better be sure it's not a flash in the pan