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[WC2 is a London postcode which stands for Western
Central 2 and takes in the area around Holborn] 
             ________

Over in Ireland an unhappy mother
Hired detectives, one after the other
To take on the task of locating her son
Who went by the name of Neally Dunn

He'd run off to Holborn and all his mum knew
Was that was in London, WC2
Perhaps she would sleep much more soundly at night
If he would just ring, if he would just write

Her money ran out and she broke down in tears
No letter from Neally for so many years
An old friend she met who she told about Neally
Said, 'I shall go find him and I'll do it freely.'

The kindly old friend took a boat and a train
He travelled to London and stood in the rain
He showed people pictures, his search now begun
But no one had heard of nor seen Neally Dunn

Eventually all of the streets had been trodden
The photos were soggy and he was now sodden
He so hoped to offer Dunn's mother some word
But nought had been seen and nought had been heard

He entered a pub, had a Guinness or two
And after another he went to the loo
But then he saw something that filled him with glee
In fact he forgot that he went in to pee

For he had just spotted a brilliant clue
A sign on a door that said WC2
Thinking he'd finished the task he'd begun
He tapped on the door and said, 'You Neally Dunn?'

He fully expected an end to his caper
But a voice shouted out, 'There ain't any paper.'
Our man said, 'Poor reason, so think of another,
for that's no excuse not to write to your mother.'


[This gag goes back a good forty years or so. Sorry if you’ve heard it
before but it’s not my fault that you’re a bit long in the tooth]

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