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?
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