Coming Clean

Coming Clean by Neil McCall

I've not given up spotting lorries
and own every song sung by "Queen
but since my vasectomy went tragically wrong
I've decided I ought to come clean.

I rent my spare room to known paedophiles;
(currently my Uncle Sid)
but there's no need to be unduly alarmed
I've known him since I was a kid.

I'll admit it; I burnt your budgie
though I've refused to own up for so long
it was me who went stalking your auntie
and stole your second-best thong.

And I took those shots from the party
and sent them first-class to your boss
then I talked to a man with a rucksack and glare
and showed him the way to Kings' Cross.

And, on that fateful day when I promised "I will!
I was secretly thinking "I won't!
Though I told you last weekend that I loved you still,
On sombre reflection, I don't.