Sir Robert Walpole Resists The Lyrical Impulse

It’s time to take my tortoise to the vet
(I’m quite distressed – I’ll have a glass of gin)

I’ll smoke a mentholated cigarette  

(I hate the taste, I’m trying to pack them in)

I’ll drink a glass of gin and have a smoke

(The tortoise doesn’t mind, he’s fast asleep)

I’ll have a bath – I need a damn good soak

(The vet’s expensive, reptile meds aren’t cheap)

My animals are dying one by one

(My parrot’s keeling over as I write)

I miss the hamsters – they were damn good fun

(My gin is strong, I’m getting rather tight)

I wonder where I put my telephone

(I like to have it with me on the road)

It helps me feel I’m not quite on my own

(I really miss my friendly little toad)

I’ve buried seven cats since Monday last

(I wonder where I put my tartan tie)

It’s several hours since I broke my fast

(I’ll have a slice of last night’s mushroom pie)

I rather hope we’ll have a little rain

(My plants are parched – they need a damn good wet

And so do I). My life is down the drain

But I must take my tortoise to the vet.