.                 and that twilight zone,
mulling over a bottle of wine
after the finest fish & chips...
'don't worry, laddy,
ms amber will be with
you shortly'
   like some obscure reference
to a pink floyd song...
mind you, my english teacher,
also a scot, directed me
to be equipped with this language,
but, to an over-arching extent
not bothering with grammar;
i still don't want to
sing the anthem,
   probably, the shittest
anthem the world has ever heard,
and short...
so... obviously,
genious me had to find
a compromise...
    'so... so.
  so when these ******* stand up
do a rom-com tear jerker
moment,
for whatever patriotism is
left in them...
     can we, can i...
can Z whistle the british
grenadiers' fife 'n' drum?'
well it was either a pint
of milk,
or a bottle of wine...
   how else am i supposed
to **** this **** out?!
      why, why is everyone raving
about the current, marvel,
like it's some sort of
ingmar bergman
fetish?
                 back to the whistling,
i've go some eager *****
about to god save the queen
me to death.