Friday Night Wanderings
Pippidy pop the hops on top,
Never just the one, a few,
Pippidy pop once again he stops,
To find himself askew,
Crickiddy crack the floor boards do slack,
As he walks to a lady, red skirt,
Crickiddy crack as the pub fire goes black,
But a spark burns still, they flirt,
Tippidy tap onto Google Maps,
To find a place to stay,
Tippidy tap up and down her lap,
And now my friends, he’s laid,
Bippidy beep yet silence by a man turned sheep,
A fault onto her own she’s sure,
Bippidy beep the Response stick runs deep,
Tainted time but love unknown still pure,
A crackly cry up towards the sky,
The bastard has now been born,
A crackly cry after he says goodbye,
Dim shadow, she’s left to morn,
Tickiddy tock the hands of time do rock,
Oneself into situations of chance,
Tickiddy tock charms fade after the clock,
So leave it my dear, to just one dance.
Copyright © Shane Rundle | Year Posted 2015
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