What about tomorrow then?
borrow that knackered old pony
from Mr Shanks?
no thanks,
I'd sooner walk.
clever clogs, him with the funny name
shouts,
hey stupid,
they're one and the bleedin' same.
but what about it?
getting to work by hoofing it
doesn't sound too good
not when the weather's looking so bad,
I could work remotely,
oh
I always do,
oh well
I hope
something turns up
but not my toes
because I need those
for balance.
Another strike by London underground.
