I said many moons ago;
Watch out for an unusual birth.
For ‘some reason’ it’s just come back to me;
And has caused me a feeling of inevitable mirth.
I’m not a prophet; I’m not a soothsayer,
And after years of study, I’m barely a believer.
However, today has caught my attention; everyone gossips with apprehension.
What will she wear? What’s up with her Dad?
Can I afford the latest fad?
Didn’t I see her bottom on ‘Suits’?
Hang on a minute, now it seems clear.
Is it our job to enhance their career?
To create a mirage of an immortal bloodline?
Is it only my purpose to make them shine?
Sod this for a lark.
I’m going to the pub.
It’s a Saturday in May.
And it’s the FA Cup!