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