Mr Sewerman

Grunt grunt below the gutter The man of the sewer works With his big old rusty spanner He twists the pipes, the nuts and bolts That struggle to hold the metal that jolts The rats and roaches scamper When they hear the sewerman's steps Plod plod plod goes the smelly sewerman Onto the next battered and crusty pipe Glog glog the stinky water churns Flowing out in wispy waves Greenish hue surrounds the river of filth Looks like a witches wildest dream Mr sewerman scrunches his bulbous nose Shaking his head and clicking his tongue As a fat rat chases past his bulky boots Oh Mr sewerman sir Look how much you toil and swear See and smell all what you wear Do you like this job Mr sewerman sir Are you merry and well with the fat rats Jolly and gay with huge skidding roaches I say your plight is choice Look at that large frame You could have been a pawn in the country's game And left the smelly sewers that you call home Honour and grace could have earned you a place As a general or even a captain of the horde Instead you cower behind the sewer's cover And douse yourself in the smelly waters Look at me Mr sewerman sir When I strut with my uniform in town People wave and salute me in honour Do you envy my shiny medal And the respect from the townsfolk?