'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

'Twas lunch time at the office
All of the gang were there
The boss was out, hooray’s the shout
and all the time the glare
of the reeking, creaking tea urn
sat quietly in place
and all at once we both felt sick (and you were off your face!)

'Twas lunch time at the office
Though some might not agree
The PC’s dead, the memo’s read
The number two’s decree
That we all must save more pencils
So write with just one pen.
and all at once the lift threw up. (and I just felt sick then)

'Twas lunch time at the office
But Gerry the Key was ill
They tried to move put all that proved
Was no one could keep still
Then the aching breaking newshound
Stared endlessly at you
And all at once we all went home. (Well what else could we do?)

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

Back to 'Too Many Poets'

 Index of Faux-lyrics for 'Too Many Poets'