In The Cubicle

I is for

In The Cubicle
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Saturday night at the local
Time for a slash
And a shit
So sitting in the cubicle I heard
The door slam and the voices start
She,s ma fuckin wummin, ok?
Fuck you pal, she,s wi me
I stay deathly quiet
Not even the rustle of bog paper
Listen bastard,I,ll fuckin mark ye
Awright then but she,s a whooer anyway
I stayed silent and scared
No more shouting just the zipping of flies
And the trickle of urinating
How wiz the gemme at Parkhead?
We were robbed
The door opens then silence
What was all that about?: