Our VoR

It is unto you in times like these

We seek the neighbours to appease.

Down to the Council, with strong voices

They do complain of the Pig’s Arms noises.

It was only Gez and perhaps his missus

In the carpark revved up the Lambrettistas

Obtuse the Angles came to play and pissed around last Saturday

All bluff and bluster it’s been said

Until our cocky was found stone dead.

It lowers the tone of our precincts

And presages the arrival of gangs of Finks

So Vinh, Miss Ordinaire of Rouge

Make haste and with your presence felt

Show the flag and wield the belt

And quieten down this part of town

And hold at bay

The noise-inspector’s frown.