Monthly Archives: July 2016

Bluebird, Bluebird

Look at the pretty bluebird, bluebird
Sitting on my shoulder
Listen to her singing, her singing
Could not be any bolder

But just before taking-off, taking-off
No longer to be heard
She leaves a sloppy-dropping, dropping
Off a runny turd

And so I go to wipe it, wipe it
Clear from my clean shirt
But as I swipe my hand, my hand
Smears and spreads bird-dirt

On the house next door, next door, next door,
Next door there is a spigot
Which should provide a wash, a wash
With water – that’s the ticket

Summer’s sun had been heating, heating
Water in the hose
Soon my face was bleeding, bleeding
From burns upon my nose

That’s how I scared my face, my face
Which had been rather pretty
Before one delicate bluebird, bluebird
Who just happened to be shitty