Gordon
Gordon ‘ s a bloke, whom I know,
He thinks he ‘s a farmer because oats and sows,
Oneday he got that dreaded phone,
I think from a girl called Joan.
I think I’m pregnant and you’re the dad,
Gordon ‘s jaw wide open, he did yell “oh, too bad”.
I’m not the daddy do stop kiddin’,
Where ‘ s the durex I had hidden.
Gordon shocked in disbelief,
She yelled “ April Fool “ to his relief,
He gave her a few sweary words,
“ Were finished, “ he said, “ I’ve got other birds”.
He works for Michael now and then,
He’s a cockrel not a big fat hen.
He’s my friend I think he’s great,
I must say that to stay in a healthy state.
Curries and beans he does like,
After that he’s on his bike.
Enough good words I’ve said to him,
He must jog to stay in trim.
