Chilly Cheeks

[Inspired - with much gratitude - by Jan’s poem There’s No Knocking On Heaven’s Loo Door and Caren and Tom’s comments on it] *** The toilets in heaven are cold on your ass The angels believe that they’re all made of brass Turns out the reason the lavvies are cold Is that all those loos are eighteen carat gold Heavenly shoppers had been sent to Earth And told to buy goods of exceptional worth The best baths and basins and showers and so on But do not return without something to go on One of those shoppers was sure in fine fettle Sought out some toilet pans in precious metal He came up one short of his gold toilet goal He needed another so that one he stole The owner told me that that richest of loos Was nicked by a bloke with a beard and no shoes One million pounds for my loo that was yeller I said Jesus Christ! He said yeah that's the fella So that’s how there’s toilets of gold up in heaven They said there were two but there’s actually seven But heavenly humans are not a bright species And built up an accumulation of feaces They looked at the task from a different angle And now drop it in the Bermuda Triangle Sailors and pilots are frequently struck And turn up in heaven all covered in muck Although they’re in heaven they never seem happy As they use the bathroom because they’re so crappy It might be a rumour but what I’ve been told Is they often cry out… THESE TOILETS ARE COLD!