Working summer
John Betjeman buried in small church in cornwall saint piran of tin miners
Beasts to feasts go far as east drive down a leap forgive you beep go back to sleep
Hold my hands so i can stand my legs no more also very sore sorry to be a bore
Fairy dairy hairy peter pan no fairy magic wand i stand go like hand in hand red and blue so true
Farewell thy fair day to the last fade of light look up westward site sun downward thee soar wee shall meet no more
deep heart tears i miss thee groans of pains not to see thee dark despair
Down sir matt busby way Stretford red devils play George best here to stay red blood on his shirt scores a goal in the dirt
Devine thy templar help to the poor bears of thy cross to pilgrims land five part star to order
Poeticous your so delicious hope your not malicious write a poem for thy own walk the winding road story’s of young and old
Sit and thee wonder looks like thunder go back down under make me sit and plunder long tall sally
Speaking words of wisdom let it be for you and me hey Jude don’t be sad to make it better into my heart
Where do thy begin turning down my skin let us all do sin life love to you all back home i call
My dear love thee the world is so free my heart sad apart fears of thy fate hate maybe our last date
to a bairns cuddle doon to a misty moon tis a home poet from the toon remember the miners
blue to red tis a water shed my life was short and sweet tired i sleep thy hear beeps pink and yellow colour teek my love for you dinner time
Fare to dare to fly in the sky not to stare on ryanair for we not see dolly oh golly