A doyen of Topiary once told me,
That one day he would like to grow a maze,
It seemed to be quite logical
That this should be his wish
And with that
We both went our separate ways
They said you died at 7:00 ("seven") due to something in your head
I asked the Sister why it wasn't someone else instead!
Tonight I cry myself a bath of tears and ask the world,
"Why is Rod Hull alive, and getting paid as well!?"
I heard a palace spokesman mention Sarah
Said she'd known the groins of Jaques LaFitte
She's well-prepared to be a standard-bearer
As pure as the proverbial driven sleet!
Halfway up the reekin' with an empty flask of tea,
A fog descends and takes away my visibility
Yet in this Helen Keller state, I'd still quite like to know
Why is Rod Hull alive, and getting paid as well!
And I wonder if they'll bring back
National Service and the Birch
And I wonder must I doubt if
They'll ever bring back The Watney Cup