Feng Shui and the World Cup
¶ 1
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Don’t call me a Jobsworth
Just because I shop at Woolworths
For a winter cardigan,
I’ve a good eye for a bardigain,
I enjoy the sweet seduction
Of a price reduction
For a winter woolie
In the shop that folk call Woolies,
And I like the oddity
Of buying a commodity
Whose name is the same as the shop.
But struth I never knewee
That Woolies sold Feng Shui
Cut down by lots of pennies
To honestly
Hardly any
Thing
At all.
In total fee,
Just 2 pounds and the obligatory 99 p!
So I got on the ‘phone
To the wife at home –
She was at the sink –
While I had a drink,
With me mates from the club,
At the local pub,
And I said “Hello darling, cooee,
What about Feng Shui?”
While I imbibed,
I discussed the vibe
Of all our rooms
And how they’d improve,
As will our luck
For the World Cup,
If the telly’s good vibrations
And cardinal emanations
Were positioned harmoniously,
Then they would bring us victory,
Far across the sea,
In the Orient’s Group of Death.
She curtly said “No way!
It’s pronounced foong shway! –
But you’ve taken all this time
To construct this rhyme,
So OK then dearest Stuee,
Buy the cheap Feng Shui –
For it might bring us luck
In the World Cup,
And you’ll write like Percy Shelley
If you get the telly
In the right place
For celestial peace and grace,
And this domestic harmony
Might well bring us victory
Far across the oceans’ length,
In the Group entitled Death.” –
So now you find the bed
In the garden shed,
And the TV set
Is getting wet
In its so-called proper place
In a shady space;
Far from our field of vision,
Is the television,
It’s masked by all the trees,
And the swaying of the leaves,
But we’ve done our duty,
In promoting beauty,
And when our team doth win,
And you all doth sing,
Please don’t think of Sven,
But remem-
Ber Feng
Shui
Knewee
Best.
(I’ll be listening
On the wire-less)
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