They'Re Early
The doorbell rings
“They’re early!” I shriek
As they enter the house
I’m starting to freak
A man in the wardrobe
His clothes in the hall
I’m starting to doubt
I’ll get away with it all
My lifestyle’s not suited
To family visits
My brass neck is shrinking
I can’t fool these twits
I’ve too many secrets
My head hangs in shame
I’m searching for someone
To take the blame
My artistic licence
Has just expired
So I call for the ‘butler’
And tell him he’s fired
Yes the visit was tense
But my parents admired
How I kept the pretence
To which they aspired
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