The English can be orderly, polite;
As you know, they queue though there’s no need to.
At the same time, they don’t half love a fight;
Weekend pavements spread thick with blood and spew.
They feel guilt for invading, but still do;
Brilliant at inventing, organising,
They thought up sports but can’t say ‘I love you;’
They’re pants at dancing, muddling at cuddling,
But sex, drugs, rock n roll, all are their thing,
Even if just on the TV each night!
Marmite and cheese on toast; fancy a brew?
They love their freedom, save their queen or king.
Each windy beach that features dog and kite
Attests to western Europe’s island crew.
Fri 21 Sep 2007
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