So the sun’s
Been out
And made folks drink,
And turn pink,
Or lousy browns,
And supplies
Have run dry
That normally nobody
Would lobby for,
Like barbeque
Fuel
And food
That a hound would
Refuse,
Although,
As expected,
Alcohol is cheap
And in short provision,
As everybody’s mission
Appears to be
To get as wasted
As possible,
And as is typical
In England,
People only
Partly succeed,
As they have to
Negotiate a path
Past
Third degree burns
From petrol usage,
And abusive
Guests
Who booze
Till they bruise each other,
And wouldn’t you just know it,
As it looks set
To get going,
They give snow
Tomorrow.
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