QUOTE
We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac.
LATER
In the clear white circles of morning wonder,
I take my place with the lord of the hills.
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured
(in neat little rows) sporting canvas frills.
With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
Saying: "How's your granny?" and good old Ernie:
he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
The legends (worded in
the ancient tribal hymn)
lie cradled in the seagull's call.
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.
QUOTE
We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac.
LATER
In the clear white circles of morning wonder,
I take my place with the lord of the hills.
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured
(in neat little rows) sporting canvas frills.
With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
Saying: "How's your granny?" and good old Ernie:
he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
The legends (worded in
the ancient tribal hymn)
lie cradled in the seagull's call.
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.
QUOTE
We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac.
LATER
In the clear white circles of morning wonder,
I take my place with the lord of the hills.
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured
(in neat little rows) sporting canvas frills.
With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
Saying: "How's your granny?" and good old Ernie:
he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
The legends (worded in
the ancient tribal hymn)
lie cradled in the seagull's call.
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.