once upon a time there was a girl called white new shoes
she lived on rat-tray alley
doubt it was in a castle tho
she had an admirable dedication to eye makeup
badger tail blush etc
she would have given cleopatra the 14th a good seeing-to
she frequented indie type
gotland type
proper dark midwinter baltic gear
brit pop type clubs
in the early 19th century
you know
a hard core lute enthusiast
rumour had it she was seeing the dj
at one of the clubs
dj Utter Dick Turdpin
tho we never saw any evidence
it could have been hear-say-hear again
a vicious circle
he played good choons
from the bard of brainsworthy grungingtons
to the ballads of likely laddo of the fifth firth
one night she fell down the stairs
and re-arranged her gilet undergarments
oshhhh boshhhh
the onlookers gasped
nobody got the undergarments thoughts on it
i thought she was ravishing
but we drifted apart
not sure what she drifted on
i drifted on a raft made of tempestuous hawthorn...
i saw her once many years later
defending her sows good name with a pitchfork
maybe during the race for africa
she had married into the veldt suburban gentry
and was still white
but forgone her (formerly) new shoes
and wasnt at all interested
in reminiscing about her clubbing daze
and didnt want to hear about her shoes at all!
