Leaving

With the windows so clean and the grass nicely cut
Where do you go when the shops are all shut?
There you are with your bag and your purse
But there’s nowhere to go, you cry with a curse.

There’s bugger all on telly ‘cept sport and more sport
I’d go to the pub, but can’t stand the thought,
Of pissed up old men smelling of fags and beer
Chatting me up with - “I fanshy you my dear.”

I could knit something new - a jumper maybe?
But that’s not exciting, it’s not really me.
I could write my new novel, I’ve plenty of time.
Or compose a fine poem with oodles of rhyme.

I could even go away - just jump in the car
And drive nonstop to the Costa Del Mar.
There’s bound to be a room, one with a view
Where I can sit and cogitate, about me and you.

I thought for a moment with the garden so clean
You’d think about us and what it would mean,
If I left you now for the guy down the street
Would I be happy, would my life be complete?

Although quite old, he’s got more life than you
He likes Channel 4, he told me, it’s true.
I accepted a drink from this man who is cool
And watched him dive into the leisure centre pool.

He looks in great shape all muscle and tanned,
Imagine how gorgeous he’ll be on the sand.
I’ll admire his physique, he’ll quake at my touch
I’ll fall into his arms. It’ll all be too much.

Now it’s half time will you give me some hope
Can I count on you to help me to cope?
You’ve gotta take notice I’m down on my knees
Do you still love me? Oh tell me please.

Is that all you can say, “That ref’s a pratt.”
While I’m grovelling and being licked by the cat?
You wouldn’t care if I was ravaged by a dingo
Well I’ve had enough, I’m off down the bingo!