Back Alley Queens There where two Queens; one spade, one club, Who did everything together. They drank half pints at the local pub And bitched about the weather. They didn't think much for the rest of the pack, Who were dotted 'round the places Except the special ones named Jack Who all have double faces. One half of Jack was keen on Queen of clubs he did pursue. The other fancied Queen of spades, 'twas her he tried to woo. Now you can but imagine the pickle Jack was in. Split between his ups and downs Was wearing him quite thin. So one day he decided to act upon a feeling. He ironed out his corners getting rid of tatty peeling. He slid towards the nearest deck, that housed the Queens of old. Shuffled his way round the back, Hoping he wouldn't fold. He told them of his angst, And they listened eagerly. But they didn't care for Jack of hearts, only the other three. The Queens, they did not hate the two red boys whose names were Jack. But they'd had one, and both agreed the best lovers are black.

Flock Together My mother and father fly. Cocooned in egg, so still I lie. Until the time I choose to wake, And eat what they regurgitate. As I grow, and watch their wing, I learn to toot the songs they sing. And whistle with a gentle tone. My colours bloom from monochrome. Now that I'm a mighty beast, I can gather my own feast. To feed my own young queens and kings, On beetles, bugs and slimy things. So they can blossom in my stead, And learn to sore up overhead. We never fall, we ne'er demise, We are the emperors of the skies.

The Finer Things In #life I'm chipper all the day, I never serve myself. When will I get my own way? I'm not in the best of health. I like fancy clothes. Leather gloves and panty hose that don't contain holes. I want you to see; A sultry, smutty, sexy, slutty side of me. When I sing a song, Wearing nought but nipple tassels and a leopard skin thong. I'm the kind of woman who desires the finer things in #life. I'm tired of pulling pints for punters listening to woes and strife. I'm that girl who likes an ermine coat, champagne instead of gin, caviar instead of oats. Yes I'm the kind of woman who desires the finest things in #life. When I was just a girl I can recall the words my mother did utter; she said you'd better marry rich or else you'll end up in the gutter. I ignored her wisdom, now I'm skint, it's times like this I wish I hadn't stabbed the old bint. Think it's gonna be a while before I get the finer things in #life. I hope someday that I can get myself out of this rotten place. I stink of ale, stink of cigs, and stink like I've just ran a race. Never make a penny, never seen a pound and the only thing I'm running is this hole in the ground, Why can't I be one of the lucky ones who gets the finest things in #life?