The Sluggets
My name is Sally Slug
Not a lot of people know this
My mom says I am very pretty
And seals it with a kiss
Dad worries and keeps me and Sid apart
"Keep yer elastic tight girl"
Don't end up a tart
But what can I do? When under the moon
Sid's silver trail is making me swoon
Under a stone, eating a salad
Listening to Sid, sing his beautiful ballad
We slither along the rows of lettuce
Nibbling away, "Watch out for them pellets"
Here's a lager can. Too late Sid fell in
He staggers out, with an amorous grin
He hugs me close, his breath is quite boozy
He's a slimy devil he knows I'm his floozie
Oh! Well we've done it
Disregarded dad's warning
Around 500 babies, some damp sunny morning
Sid's pegged it now
(Too much take-away pellet)
It's my story, he cannot tell it
Why does the gardener feed us
And yet be so cruel?
Here he comes now, the silly old fool
Its love and hate. Alive or dead
He's planting more lettuce
I'm off to bed
© John Neale 1998