Archives for June 2011

The Dead Badger Song

My friend Steph thought it would be impossible to write a song about a dead badger. I’m not fond of the word ‘impossible’ when applied to song and poems. So Steph, this one’s for you.

The Dead Badger Band played exclusively rock
There was Stripey and Digger and of course there was Brock
Their amps were the biggest that money could get
So large that they didn’t quite fit in the sett !

Stripey played keyboards and Digger he drummed
While Brock played guitar as he sang and he hummed
They were called The Dead Badger Band (so Stripey said)
because they were Badgers and because they were dead

The Doctor had given them his diagnosis
“You’ve all got a bad case of tuberculosis”
Now a badger’s a sturdy and healthy wee beast
But a dose of TB makes him quickly deceased

So our heroes decided they just wouldn’t cop it
They’d stay here as ghosts and they’d rock till they drop it
Being undead would give them more time to rehearse
And they’d drive to their gigs in a second hand hearse

So now every night of the week they play mostly
Ethereal music that’s heavy but ghostly
They’ll go up to heaven, but not til the Lord
Says they can rock – not play harp- they’d be bored.

My Tricycle Has Shrunk

Once more the delightful Olivia points out the mysterious workings of the universe.
Olivia: “Hey! Last time I was on this trike it was bigger! How has it got a bit smaller?”
I am unconvinced her Dad knows this much actual science … but that’s why they invented poetic licence.

The last time I rode this tricycle it was bigger than this I think
Did some master of miniaturisation come along and make it shrink ?
I’ve checked for other changes, I’ve checked its symmetry
I’ve checked both handlegrips and I’ve checked wheels one, two and three

I’ve gone and checked the manual they provide when they deliver
But still I haven’t figured out why my tricycle was bigger
I thought it through I’ve pondered, cogitated, I have thunk
But yet I cannot tell you why my tricycle has shrunk

Perhaps my Mummy’s lying making up some fabrication
Cos she loves me and she’s trying to placate my indignation
But I haven’t heard her offer me one single cause at all
That would tell me why my favourite trike is suddenly so small

At this rate I’ll be riding with my knees up by my ears
It won’t be long before my trike just ups and disappears
I’m worried this affliction though might spread to other stuff
But apart from maybe brothers’ heads – one shrunken thing’s enough

My Daddy says “It could be worse, so stop your mad invective
The expansion of the universe puts it all into perspective”
I can’t tell Dad that’s twaddle I don’t want to be in trouble
But he says that it’s all explained by Mister Edwin Hubble

The universe is growing every minute, every day
And everything that’s in it moves a bit further away
And objects in the distance seem much smaller than they were
That’s why it looks as if my trike has turned out miniature

Then Dad went on to tell me what occurs as it gets older
As the universe expands it keeps on growing ever colder
And in the end each molecule is frozen like an icicle
I wonder though – he never said – what happens to my tricycle ?