Slouch Giblet Master There's a face at the floorboards, asphyxiated and decorated by Wilkinson's Swords The chimney breast is fully occupied, old pot puree lines rooms, odorless, brittle and dried Laid to rest in the garden and a notice reads Beware No Dogs Allowed In No-soirée it's just a strong coffee, number than numb to suburban drudgery Drudge! Drudgery! Drudge! Drudgery! Drudge The bathroom it wreaks of bleach again honey and the dustman said that the drains smelt funny It's beady eyes in the local butchers shop, he jokes you should be sponsored by big black bin liners The U-bend it seems to be blocked yet again those bloody giblets never seem to wash down the drain No-soirée it's just a strong coffee, number than numb to suburban drudgery Drudge! Drudgery! Drudge! Drudgery! Another morning spent marking up newspapers, number forty one didn't get hers That's a hanging offense in a town like ours where the curtains they twitch for hour and hours and hours and hours and hours and hour and hours and hours and hours and hours MtM 1994