Saturday, 4 June 2016

Look all around, there's nothing but blue skies.

Mouldy and draughty, my house is a pit
And even the dogs think the place shit
But it's all that I've got and I can't afford better
So when the boiler breaks I just put on a sweater
I'm grateful for whatever food's in my belly
And until recently had a thirty year old telly
It worked well enough and gave me the impression
Of action and drama in soap operas and Westerns
But then one night during a show with Stephen Fry in
That crackling, old box gave up even trying
It popped and sent smoke that was thick, pungent and white
Drifting up high while I sat and said "Shite!"

So off I went to Tesco to get myself
A deal on a telly that came straight from the shelf
I carried it home, these new one's are light
And looked forward to my usual Saturday night
I settled down deep in my favourite chair
One foot on a dog that snoozed and snored there
Lay on the floor halfway in between
The chair I had chosen and the flat, shiny screen
Looking so lost, sitting dwarfed in betwix
A vase with a flower and a set of six pics
I squinted at the remote clasped, tight, in my hand
Then turned on a film about a brass band

The picture was crisp and the speakers were sound
Then flicking through menus I suddenly found
All of those channels that, until recently
Had been unavailable for me to see
Those familiar shows watched without ever
Seeing a spot on a famous presenter
Or straggly hairs on the side of a beard
Or how that bloke off the weather looks a bit weird
All these now clearly presented in glorious HD
Even the wrinkles beneath Rachel Riley's knee
Spoiling my long held, low-def delusion
Of perfection whenever I'd put local news on

The novelty of the benefit hi-def had brung
Didn't linger around for very long
I longed for the time of blurry ignorance
I'd had and enjoyed while celebrities danced
Then, as ever when Monday morn' came around
Sat eating toast was where I could be found
Staring through eyes that longed for the gloom
At the flat, wicked window in the corner of the room
But what was that, sitting on that settee?
Glimpsed through the steam from my hot cup of tea
Was a woman who looked even better today
And sent all the grey clouds drifting away

Now she's the reason I tune in each morning
Scratching my arse as the new day is dawning
Munching on toast and loading a pipe to
Enjoy on my dog walk while cleaning up dog poo
A Cupid's bow and eyes dark and bright
A smile that'd make all wrong things right
I hang upon every word that she breathes
And won't start my day 'til she finally leaves
No matter the matter she's having to cover
Her words mesmerise like a whispering lover
Naga Munchetty, she's always enough
To brighten the day of an old bloke with a cough.

Enjoy the little things.


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