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Rags to riches

harry hayes

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With apologies to the two Ronnies.




On the census I'm a scavenger,

Just a hovel to lay my head;

I search by day on rubbish dumps,

For scraps or just stale bread -

I know my place.


I look down on grand-dad,

Go house to house all over town;

Armed with a sack and ready eye,

Purloin anything not tied down.


I'm just their younger relative,

On the up and up - and how!

Got myself a hand-cart,

Life's so much easier now -

But I know my place.


Dad's old fashioned in his ways,

My horse and cart attract them in;

Goldfish; balloons; rubbing stones,

For any clothing wearing thin - 

But I look up to him.


I'm their modern rag and bone man,

A big motor lorry to fill;

Copper; cable; lead flashing;

Fridges; washers; or what you will.


Got a lovely home and garden,

A Bentley I bought with cash;

Tax to me is an ugly word,

An alsatian guards my stash -


You know your place!!



HH 4/13.  thanks for reading   Happy days

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