I could stuff a cushion with this lot, but it wouldn't be nice,

I could send it to Paris, but can't afford the price,

all sorts of rubbish, fluff and a crumb,

Dog hair and pastry, oh what have I done.

The bag split open, the floor is a mess,

The contents of my Hoover all over my dress.

The shame of the dust, the bits and the grit,

My neighbour will call and see every bit,

There's no room for excuses, or even a drink,

What will she say? What will she think?

The dust the paper, the toenails, the skin,

Why couldn't the dust bag just keep it all in.

I rush to the cupbourd to find a new bag,

The doorbell hasn't rung I'm really quiet glad,

The times running out, she'll be here before I'm done,

I told her to get here just before one,

I've found the bag, but where is the ring

I never was much good at fitting this thing.

Looking down closely,  I see something shine,

Was that the glass mouse that used to be mine?

A tail, and an ear, but where is the head,

I bought it in Brighton, with my first husband Fred.

That was a great time we laughted on the peir,

Oh what am I doing, my Neighbour is here.

Its alright Janet, please step over the mess,

And please excuse the state of my dress,

I wanted it perfect I wanted it nice,

Its no good when you Hoover eats broken up mice,

I'm sorry you've seen it, but what can I say?

I didn't know the Hoover bag would burst today!

We laughted at the fluff, she helped with the ring,

I really must learn to empty this thing,

The floor is now tidy, the dust is all gone,

Perhaps it was the mouse that made it go wrong,

I tided the dirt and got rid of the git,

OH why did the hoover bag have to split?