Scene on the road
Cars turning slowly round it
With flowers in rows
Watered by unseen powers
In orderly homes
Empty and still like summer
Its hotter than Rome
After a cold December
Guess it's not, so hot

The Beverly rose
Heard it from bed one morning
She'll see how it goes
Coffee and absent browsing
Dead in a row
Crushed in a dusty building
Do these monsters know?
The Daily Mail's read by children
Guess it's not, so hot
I get my copy for free, these days


Life in the caliphate
Has got pretty weird of late
So go on then, cut off your finger nails
The French they all eat horse and horse
and horse and horse and horse and horse
and horse and snails