If I got up at six in the morning
Boiled the kettle, fed the cats
Swept the floor and shook the mats,
Stirred the porridge, washed the pots
Cleaned the sink and wiped up spots
Whisked my Dyson round like crazy
(Canít let neighbours think Iím lazy,)
Dusted every nick and nack,
Front of bookcase, round the back,
Cleaned the sinks and blitzed the bath
Scraped the moss off the garden path
Ironed the sheets and pants and Ďjamas
Trouser creases like the vicarís,
I would be cleanly, I would be Godly
Nobody would look at me oddly.
I get up at seven
Boil the kettle, feed the cats
Clean the catsick off the mats
Do the suduko, hide the pots
Wipe the surface while the cats make spots
Read yesterdayís paper in my nightie,
(Guess the postman thinks Iím flighty)
Pile up papers in a stack,
Hide the rubbish out the back
Iíve lost the brush for the lavatory,
Cos Iím at the computer, writing poetry.
I havenít the time to be clean and Godly,
My neighbours often look at me oddly,
Cos Iím on the phone, chatting to a friend
Discussing the distance from Trowbridge to
Iíve never got the time to do what I oughtta.
My mother would be ashamed of her daughter!