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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required For Didds Four tankards found at the foot of the hill Bet someone got w*nkered, and now they feel ill Bet it went down so easy that no one resisted And now they’ve forgotten the tankards existed But down at the pub there are rumours of scandals Of boisterousness, and the theft of four candles And a gap on the shelf where the tankards once sat And out on the roof someone’s comedy hat Maybe barred from the pub and a walk out of town? With enough beer in tow to conceivably drown As they woke up the town with their loud shouty glee And blessed all the hedges with vomit and pee “Here’s bashin’ yer metal” and “Cheers, me old china” Drinking alfresco, well, what could be finer Well, ale, I suppose, for it goes down a treat Not that one cares when one’s drunk on the street The next day the tankards just sat by the road All hopeful and waiting, but nobody showed Until round the corner a giant appeared Wearing a rugby shirt, smile and beard “I’ll tell you what, lads, all back to mine” Four trusting tankards all followed in line Expressing their heartfelt and infinite thanks With tinkles, and clatters, and resonant clanks There followed a search, and some transient glory And some vain attempt to uncover their story So brightly they shone in their moment of fame Then they just disappeared, in the way that they came ‘Tis said, down in Rowde, that the veil is thin That mischievous fairies throw stuff in the bin That strange things do happen, when folk have been drinking All myth mixed with moonshine and magical thinking Whatever, wherever, they’re not coming back So; whose were the tankards, and what was the crack? by Gail
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