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John Masefield by Little Dot


Jubilee Fever

I must go down to the village hall, to the marquee on the green,
And all I ask is a cup of tea, from the WI canteen,
And the bunting bright and day fine and a mushroom quiche or two,
And the concrete dry and the paint fresh in the renovated loo.

I must go down to the village hall, for the call: "God save the queen"
Is a wild call, and it echoes clear off the shiny new latrine And all
I ask is a tug-of-war and some good clean Ambridge fun,
And Jolene in a skin-tight top, and to see the ferrets run.

I must go down to the village hall, where the Shires is flowing free,
Where we all consume our bodyweight in scones, and jam and tea,
And all I ask's an illicit snog and a perhaps drunken brawl,
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream, passed out, in the village hall.



Dead Poets Society

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