INSIDE INFORMATION
Eight o' clock in the morning,
The alarm bell it rings.
I awake with a jolt:
Time this bed got new springs.
As she hops round the bedroom
Getting into her clothes,
Her up and down motion
Sticks my thumb up my nose.
Now a rush to the bathroom
Where she's really quite ill.
Then she goes to the tap
To take her iron pill.
As she washes it down
There's a shower overhead.
And it lands with a plop
And the sound fills my head.
She goes down to the kitchen
Where the breakfast she makes:
Eggs and bacon for them;
For us, toast and corn flakes.
As she sits down, the table
Strikes me on the bum.
Just when I'd got back
To sucking my thumb.
After breakfast the postman
Puts the mail through the door,
And she rushes right over:
picks it up from the floor.
As she bends down to get it,
My knee hits my eye.
The force sends me reeling
As suspended I lie.
This pattern is followed
From morning to night.
By the time bedtime comes,
Feel I've been in a fight.
At the way that I'm treated
I'm not very thrilled.
I just hope I am born
Before I get killed.
Copyright Peter Jones 1992