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The Queen's Head
Richard Dawson
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We're hurrying home from Sheffield Having received a phone call From our tearful nephew Whom we had left in charge "It's happened again, the pub's flooded again Humber burst its banks this morning" We've been over to see our mam Who's in the later stages of dementia She didn't understand that we had to go A whole box of Maltesers got sent rolling all over the floor How little we are, clung to the river's edge Come hell or high water, how little we are Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh We park up by the derelict primary school Tie bags for life around our ankles And wade across the playing field Through the council estate to the market square The whole town's come out to stand dumbly about Staring at the filthy water The guy from the vape shop Ferrying his chocolate labs Waves to us cheerily From a leaky kayak "I've lost everything apart from what counts" Pointing to his dogs and then at his heart How little we are, clung to the river's edge Come hell or high water, how little we are Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh There's a crowd gathered 'round the fat-headed butcher Who's back on his soap box again Bemoaning the lack of adequate flood defences Somehow putting it down to "an insurge Of benefit-scrounging immigrants" While handing out packs of sausages, black puddings, ham and haggises Avoiding making eye contact, we hurry past the baying throng Our beer garden lies in disarray Tangled chair legs and drowned umbrellas Crossing the threshold, we are overwhelmed To find our neighbours whom we've never actually spoke to Working frantically to save our pub Lifting the tables clear and sweeping away the liquid mud How little we are, clung to the river's edge Come hell or high water, how little we are Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh How little we are, in the mouth of the world Come hell or high water, how little we are Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
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