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THE BALLAD OF SWIMMER
by
Ben Mousley

Swimmer got his name from the fact
He was always splashing about,
Some folks said his father were fine
But his mum were a bit of a trout.
In every sense of the phrase, it's said
He'd water on the brain,
Described as he was, in many ways,
But never as being sane.

Despite his less than normal life
And love affair wi' water,
Swimmer met a lovely lass
And set his mind to court her.
She fell for him, and he proposed;
They vowed their lives to share,
But true love's course is rarely smooth
When one half's not all there.

Up to Blackpool, one weekend
Went a coachload from the 'Ford
Swimmer were there (he loved the sea)
And so were his missus, Maud.
Out on the town they went that night
And all got pissed as sin,
Fond of water as Swimmer was
He preferred it wi' three parts gin.

Well he lost 'is way in his drunken funk
And stumbled around for a while,
Then curled up in a heap for the night
On a bench on the Golden Mile.
Followin' day the bus drove past
On its way back down the 'Ford,
And someone hollered, "There he is!
Now get him back on board."

Now Swimmer, blissfully unaware
Of all that had occurred,
Lay spark out down in the back of the coach
And not so much as stirred.
He stayed that way 'til journey's end
Back home in Stockingford
Then someone gently woke him up,
And asked him, "Where s your Maud?"

Perplexion masked upon his face
His head he tried to clear,
Realisation slowly dawned;
Confusion turned to fear,
" Why'm I on this bleedin coach!?
She'll murder me!" he shrieks,
Me and Maud were on us hols,
We're up there two more weeks!"

 
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