Land sakes alive what you been into child.
The sun is hot but the wind is mild.
My nose itches,
Someone’s coming with a hole in their britches.
Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.
A hooting and hollering like an injun’s raid.
I’m fair ta middlin’can’t complain too much.
Barely getting along. Maybe just a touch.
Cooped up like chickens. Driving me up a wall.
Just living hand to mouth. Ain’t he got some gall.
How y’all fairin’ my tail is a dragging.
It’s hotter’n Hades my tongue is a wagging.
Ain’t that just the way. Well bless your heart.
Your pea picking soul. Worse than a popcorn fart.
Let the chips fall. Where there’s a will there’s a way.
Keep your chin up. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Like a dog in heat always sniffing around.
Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.
Looking all fat and sassy with a turd eating smile.
Keep on crying, I’ll give you something to cry about.
Close your barn door before the horse gets out.
Uncle Sam is sure enough bleeding us dry.
Because I said so…that’s why!
The MP and the Gardener
She works for an M.P. who claims expenses
Gardener cuts grass, digs ponds and mends fences
The MP gets much more than he really needs
The gardener digs a hole lovingly plants seeds
The MP self isolates in a multi bed house
The gardener is starving living hand to mouth
The MP’s are saying we’re in it together
The gardener’s skint at the end of his tether
MP gets ten grand for laptops to work at home
The gardener starving so he takes a bank loan
Promises, promises were giving you a grant
You won’t actually get it, but it’s pointless to rant
Now if your self-employed we’ll promise more
But the money never leaves, the chancellor’s door
The MP eats steak and sips a glass of champagne
The gardener’s family’s cracking under the strain
The MP’s secretary. forced to use a laptop's screen
The gardener loses his house, but the grass is green
David Cox 22/04/20
I used to hear the shouting
on my landing late at night
smell the stench of trash and poverty
twas not a pretty sight
I used to hear kid's mothers
as they called them in for tea
women who wore bruises-
twas not the life for me
I used to hear the sirens
and the screams and sounds of fear
the clinking of the handcuffs
men drunk and worse for wear
I used to live in London
mainly in the South
learnt lots of pain and hardship
those living hand to mouth
but I moved to much brighter scenes
yet still I can't forget
the reek of desperation
twas a move I don't regret
Saying your a rodeo rider
Makes it sound so much fun
But living hand to mouth
I assure you isnt fun at all
Make sure your timid horse
Is well fed and warm
Your second in this pecking order
Keeping well is your aim
Driving from one venue
To another i assure you isnt good
But the visions that you see at night
Makes the journey understood
The rising and the setting sum
Is a feast for the eyes
A mental picture that you carry
When your mouth is dusty and dry
When saddling up that muscular horse
To ride into the arena
An adrenaline rush is prevalent
To ride those 8 seconds clean
The satisfaction of big money
When winners are announced
Makes all worthwhile for you
To saddle up for another event
So I tap my hat
Pack up my gear
Pick up a six pack
A few hours to sleep.
Before the next journey
So watch out
A Rodeoman is coming to town.
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