Bath Time Blues

Now I’ll ask you not to laugh
At my misfortune in the bath
A life of drinking too much beer
Has left me portly in the rear
So, one day quite out of luck
I found my backside firmly stuck

I pulled on the taps, wriggled about
And for help did lusty shout
In my fist, the tap broke free
The icy water drenching me
The wife downstairs was watching tele
As I tried to wriggle on my belly

All my efforts were in vain
I sank exhausted filled with pain
The bathroom flooded ran downstairs
I offered up most fervent prayers
Of exposure, I would surely die
I held my head, began to cry

Finally, she came to see
‘How the hell long you gonna be? ‘
‘What was that row? I’ll make you sorry
Disturbing me whilst I watched Corrie’1*
I tried to speak, she didn’t care
‘Just get your fat arse out of there’

My missus? Well, she’s not too bright
It took a while to explain my plight
The fire folk came and a strapping lass
Wedged an innertube ‘neath my ass
Pumped in some air and up I come
With shrivelled willie, wrinkled bum

Alas I trod upon the soap
Falling backwards, what a dope
Dragged the girl on top of me
She crushed my goolies with her knee
I shrieked and screamed then loudly cussed
The missus laughing fit to bust

At last, they got me into bed
I lay there wishing I was dead
So now a lesson I have learned
And the bath lift I had always spurned
Is now a part of daily life
And even used by my fat-arsed wife

*Coronation Street, an addictive (For some people) British Soap opera.