So am I. Though I may need to post it to Metrical for help.
Update. Metrical came through, with David and Marian. I have a big divvy here.
Recessional.
I went to see my doctor and he placed his stethoscope
against my chest and said to me; “I fear there is no hope!
The Pound is gone, the bank’s collapsed, my holdings fall apart”.
“Oh Doc,” I gasped; “Thank God for that - I thought you meant my heart!”
I went to Father Reilly with a lurid, grim confession.
“Can I be saved?” “Oh yes”, he said; “The Church says this recession
means Limbo’s gone and Purgatory's doors are closed as well.
And now we can’t afford the coal that fuels the fires of Hell.”
We’ve pawned the fish-knives Norman, we’re renting from the maid,
she's now a civil servant with a pension (higher grade).
Each time that we go cruising we must bunk down with the crew-
the Rolls is gone and we're reduced to a battered bike for two.
We pedal round the neighborhood, we haven’t got a bob,
your uncles have moved in with us and none has got a job.
Please send a little money Son, no more am I a toff,
though with the grants the Council gives was never so well off.
[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited November 22, 2008).]
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