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Poetry
Jailbird Blues
By petmarj
25 May 2008
This is not my effort, but what was told me many years ago.


At the Old Bailey session I stood there in dock

The judge looked at me and he seemed rather shocked.

"Young man you've been drinking, but dry up those tears

I'll have pity on you and I give you ten years."


Now I live in a mansion, surrounded by walls

To keep all my troubles away

I have boiled eggs for breakfast, roast beef for my lunch

To the pictures I go twice a day

I have a nice kindly warden to tuck me in bed

And bring me a hot cup of tea

But between me and you

If these darned lies come true

All the World would be jealous - of me.

Reviews

Written by beatricelouise (215 comments posted) 25th May 2008
Ah!! The life of a jailbird. Sounds fascinating, but I'm claustrophobic so I think I'll just be a good and respectable citizen. LOL  
 
Cute piece of work! :grin  
 
BL 8)

Written by Josie (2786 comments posted) 26th May 2008
Hmmm - I'd rather choose what to do with my day. If the sun is shining I can go into the beautiful Yorkshire Dales and walk, look at the river winding past, listen to the chaffinch in the trees and see the ducks with their young on the river. You can keep your two films a day. As for the drink - - - life is better without that too. ha ha. Freedom is priceless.

Written by NathanRoberts (277 comments posted) 26th May 2008
Josie: 'Hmmm - I'd rather choose what to do with my day.' Nice that you've got that choice. When you have to get up and go to work, it's cold, raining and you've got to ride five miles on a bike...the warm, cosy cell, cinema, cup of tea, no hard labour...doesn't sound too bad!

Written by fellpony (1617 comments posted) 26th May 2008
A similar ballad came out of the jailing of Ivor Novello ... quite topical really since it was over the petrol-rationing system!  
 
They've fixed up a cell like a posh hotel 
for this scribe of high-tone dramas, 
and he strolls through the grounds in a dressing-gown 
and a pair of silk pyjamas. 
He lives like a duke and he has his own cook, 
and he don't eat skilly neither, 
for the Governor of this lousy stir 
has a soft spot for old Ivor. 
(anon!)

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