(A catchy cockney rhyming slang narrative)
Lend this short jackanory your ten speeds and time
and that life for a tea leaf’s not lemon, you’ll find.
I’ve done bird in the bucket – the price to get scratch
‘cos me income and lifestyle were never a match.
I was jack in the jack with me jazz in the jack
when I felt ‘ow me barnet stood up on me back
‘cos a bottle came charging while blocking me way,
and I instantly knew I’d out-welcomed me stay.
‘E tried grabbing me nanny before I was gone,
got me fist in his boat – and the race was now on.
I got out from the near with ‘is breath like a yoke,
while the Sweeney kept brusseling
“Stop there, you stoke!”
If there’s something that gets on me Westham reserves
it’s the prospect of shovel (although well deserved);
with me background, it’s porridge the next time around
– if it’s back to the boom, then I’d rather be brown.
With the bottle be’ind me, I ran down the plate
– with me crust on a plate, well, me plates better rate.
Then I threw off me weasel, to speed up some more;
shame – I’d bought it last week, with the whistle I wore
There was no smash-and-grab or a sosay in sight,
so fast on me Bromleys, I rushed through the night.
I leapt down the frog with the cop in pursuit,
then saw me salvation, a battle called Boots.
Undetected, I entered the warm nuclear space;
while the bottle, unknowing, continued ‘is chase.
I’d been running so ‘ard that me biscuits were weak
– well, a tiddley restores you when future looks bleak.
(CONTINUED)