There was a young lady in Ealing.
Who slept upside down on the ceiling
She said, if I fall out
I’ll get quite a clout
In the meantime the floor has been healing.
Does gravity not affect women?
And that is just the beginning
Their verses don’t rhyme
Their clocks have no chimes
And that is the least of their sinning.
For no mother is perfectly good
None ever do all they could
We’ve all known the pain
And given them the blame.
Then there’s war and the shedding of blood.
Why do we all want more stuff ?
I am speaking now quite off the cuff.
To Greenland we will go to live in the snow.
For sure, we’ve never had it so rough
How my heart sings 