Ian sinks his fangs into the very topical business of sewage disposal. It’s a big job but he’s more than up to the task of taking the water companies to account. There’s poo-poo in the prawn and it’s giving him gyp. He wants something done. He doesn’t hold back. All the trademark rhymes and crudities are brought to bear. He loves a bit of toilet humour and where better to apply it? Ian loved to go swimming. It was good exercise for his polio-afflicted body. Whenever he selected a new home a swimming pool was one of the main criteria. The idea of polluted water got right up his nose. ‘Some turds were teeny-tiny and some were big and shiny but they all fucked up the briny In which I dipped my toe. If you go swimming in the shite-us. You’ll get worse than dermatitis. From the sea of grey detritus
Where the sewage ebbs and flows. There’s no respite from the cesspit. No shelter from the pong. The poor old ocean is full of motions. Where the hell did we go wrong?’
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I took a sudden notion
To go down to the ocean
I got my suntan lotion
My flippers and my mask
In proper distribution
Of fully formed ablutions
Formed an ocean of pollution
In which I doesn’t bask
Some turds were teeny-tiny
And some were big and shiny
But they all fucked up the briney
In which I dipped my toe
If you go swimming in the shite-us
You’ll get worse than dermititis
From the sea of grey detritus
Where the sewage ebbs and flows
There’s no respite
From the cesspit
No shelter from the pong
The poor old ocean
Is full of motions
Where the hell did we go wrong?
Like a lamb off to the slaughter
Poured myself a glass of water
I failed to spot I’d caught a
Little creature in my cup
I was well and truly bolleaux-ed
From the fires of hell that followed
‘Twas the cup of life I’d swallowed
And it almost did me up
Something coming
Through the plumbing
That should not be there at all
The glass is brimming
And things are swimming
And quite frankly, I’m appalled
Was a very hungry fella
I defrosted my paella
Came down with salmonella
Three weeks intensive care
They failed to send technicians in
To check the air-conditioning
Which was unfortunately transmissioning
A case of Legionnaire
There’s a malaise
In the mayonnaise
There’s a poo-poo in the prawn
Where we missed them
In the system
Little germs are being born
There’s no respite
From the cesspit
There’s no shelter from the pong
Where the hell did we go?