Mysteries

I like a bit of mystery, so please don't try to spoil it
'Cos there's magic in what's hard to understand
Like, there's a funny stain down in the bottom of my toilet
And it looks just like the face of Russell Brand
At least, it looks like somebody whose face is quite familiar
And how it got there's really quite a puzzle
Of course, it could be Jesus, 'cos they do look rather similar
But seeing where it is, I'd plump for Russell

Abundant are my sources of confused misinformation
Although I've been assured that I'm not dense
And many the phenomena defying explanation
And lots of things just don't make any sense
There's errors in the world today that ought to be corrected
The scale of them is almost past believing
John Lennon and John Kennedy have still not resurrected
And John McCririck's still alive and breathing

Thank God we don't know everything, there's more to be uncovered
So we really have no cause for foolish pride
Let's raise a glass to Nessie, may she never be discovered
May she teach her little Nesslets how to hide
There's circles in the crops, I hear, and God knows how they got there
There's Bigfoot, and the UFOs are soaring
And sometimes you can see things that are definitely not there
Without them, wouldn't life be bloody boring?

Elf N Safety

When I was a kid, shortly after the war
I learned how to fend for myself
Well, so did we all. Ah, but that was before
Some fool dreamed up Safety and Elf
The games that we'd play in each alley and road
Drive modern-day bureaucrats bonkers
You might get a fright if your marbles explode
Or choke if you swallow your conkers

We'd play on the bombsites all over the town
Collecting old bottles and tins
And somehow we knew not to jump up and down
On large metal objects with fins
We took awful chances as part of the game
Our go-karts would wobble and skid
Bad steering, no brakes, just four wheels on a frame
But we never lost one single kid

Now you can't eat a peanut without being warned
That it might contain traces of nut
And all of the dangers we merrily scorned
Have become a huge pain in the butt
You can legally buy a cook's knife at the store
But it's jail if you carry it home
The brain of officialdom seems barely more
Than an average-bright garden gnome

They tell you, "Wear rubber before getting frisky
And grease yourself up for the sun"
They've banned the cheese rolling, they say it's too risky
Well, isn't that part of the fun?
They've no sense of humour, you can't make them see
So don't even bother to try
And don't cock a snook at the powers that be...
You might poke yourself in the eye.

Will Hames
June 2010