In the pub I take refuge (and libation)

How then can Merv say unto me

“Jump in your Zephyr and hit the road

Until you payeth off your tab”

For wicked are the car park youths

And afeared I am of going home hungry and thirsty.

For although broke most of the time I am,

In my heart is the optimism of the debtor

That el Dorado is just over the next hill if

Only this trusty steed of the Ford Motor Company

Shall carry me in fourth (or third for hills).

Merv’s generosity is great

And this inconvenience soon he will overcome.

And in the land of refreshing foamy ale and wafting wedges shall I dwell

Now and in the later evening.