There was no reason for michael to be sad that morning, (the little wretch); everyone liked him, (the scab). He'd had a hard days night that day, for Michael was a Cocky Watchtower. His wife Bernie, who was well controlled, had wrabbed his norman lunch but he was still sad. It was strange for a man whom have everything and a wife to boot. At 4 o'clock when his fire was burking bridely a Poleaseman had clubbed in to parse the time around. 'Goodeven Michael,' the Poleaseman speeg, but Michael did not answer for he was debb and duff and could not speeg.
'How's the wive, Michael' spoge the Poleaseman
'Shuttup about that!'
'I thought you were debb and duff and could not speeg,' said the Poleaseman.
'Now what am I going to do with all my debb and duff books?' said Michael, realising straight away that here was a problem to be reckoned with.
Get back to the contents page!
Copyright © 1964, John Lennon.