A Wanderer Amongst the Cow Dung

Morning comes with a smack around the ear hole Shaking me to the foundations of my sole The morning meeting at 9 am Is like the sound of a bell sent up from hell As all parties take their seats Competing as if they were in the Olympic qualifying heats Musical chairs would be perhaps a better description But at least half of the attendees would not understand the diction The chairman calls for attention, we are about to begin And pray to the Holy Father above to please forgive our sins As we are about to enter into a fierce debate As a result of these discussions we will open up the floodgate I will not be held back in my opinions! But they are valued the same as a one pound bag of onions I hear what the other attendees say And watch them scream to try and get their way But I am just a no-one A wanderer amongst the cow dung The lowest of low And to be honest, it show’s That I don’t like going to the 9 am meeting I would rather be sat by desk eating.