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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


Published by crispinunderfelt

All round good egg. Humanist and red wine drinker.

3 thoughts on “Tarmac

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