They had a ton of tarmac spare
on their battered van
They thought that she looked gullible
She’d twigged their crafty plan
Laid on the charm to sell that load
“We’ve been working on the road”
“We saw your drive was full of holes”
They laughed, “It looks like you’ve had moles”
“As soon as she has gone inside
We’ll take this old bird for a ride”
The work was poor and quickly done
They’d get the cash and off they’d run
Demanding more than they’d agreed
She asked if they would like a feed
A cup of tea, a slice of pie
Then something shiny caught their eye
They pushed the old dear to one side
They knew old fogies liked to hide
Their cash and treasures round the home
And now the boys were free to roam
Every cupboard. Every drawer,
Finding cash but wanting more
By now the poison took affect
And sad, this house, they should select
Her two lads soon came around
And in the van, five thousand pounds
The van, the boys would sell for scrap
As tarmac boys took their last nap
Sleeping softly, safe and sound
Side by side deep underground
Unlamented, buried quick
Eternal rest with spade and pick
Photo credit: Fabian Wiktor
Excuse me, couldn’t help noticing you’ve got a tile or two loose…
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Yes, I’ve often been told that I have a slate missing! It’s those darn squirrels! That’s my excuse.
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Looks like the getters got got.
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