The Bogey Plasterer
I am the bogey plasterer,
Smearing bogeys everywhere,
From New York to St Louis,
From Leeds to Leicestrer Square.
I've never got a tissue,
A hanky nor a wipe,
I pick, I poke, I draw them out,
Each long and dangly stripe.
I roll them in my fingers,
Till the juicy bits are gone,
Then flick them in the basket,
At the cat or at the dog.
There was a time when I was young,
When I'd eat them - big or small,
Green ones, clear ones, red ones too,
I didn't care at all.
But now I'm all grown up and sure
My bogey days are through,
Instead I spend each bogey hour
Sipping water from the loo!