A little old lady sipping gravy,
Joined the navy for a spot of fun,
With her saucy red dress,she stode with finess;
her mind full of sin and her head full of rum
Now her tum’s full of rum she craves Gin & Juice
But she’s spent all her pension on a bottle of Grey Goose.
But still she craves more as she walks out the door.
She thinks fast, thinks dangerous, thinks loose!
With a roar she draws forward clawing and gnawing the jaw of her maw.
Unable to coordinate her weighted gait she chases the acoholic bait.
She sighs and she cries and she clenches her jaw.
Bent over and withened, she stumbles towards her inevitable fate:
Scenic dreams of mountains, streams, reaches,
Fountains, Nirvanic images, beaches and brush.
Although really she knows, that’s not how it goes,
Acid disappointment comes now in a rush
She stands, straightens her shoulders,
and steps into the crush.