Barmy Brummies

We like mint sauce and lamb from Cymn,

making Spitfires, in the back garden shed.

Lord how you're bread,

Mars at our head.

We like Muslim shops

and Krishna makes three.

There is, a tree and a dream,

Soho Road, it is thee.

We make cars and a billion King

but right now,

you couldn't see a greener ring.

Here Rasta, you've paid your bill,

let Jah light be our fill.

For down at the Bull Ring,

salt fish and sing.

Mighty the Arc,

the Goddess does bring.

Barmy Brummies,

at the U.B.O.

milk for the cat,

smiles and good blow.

And  Tony Hancock,

'till I cried.

All our Hobbits,

she is so wide.

Sweet peas,

from our little patch of green.

such unity is rarely seen.

For I saw Louisa Riland,

in the healing park of Bream.

There is a council house,

no rent, for the free.

here the National Health,

made a Godley tree.

so sing on the giro,

for all will be well.

The Blood Donors cured,

our perfect hell.

For when all's said and done,

it's just our home.

the cat the fiddle and the healing throne.