Mangoes in a Fruit Shop (a song)

I’m now going to sing for you ‘mangoes in a fruit shop’
G Am

Mangoes in a fruit shop 

G Am

and buys some fruit
G Am

Mangoes in a fruit shop


That man was wearing a 


G Am

Mangoes in a fruit shop 

F C G.

That is no big surprise 

F C G.

(That is no big surprise)
G Am

Mangoes in a fruit shop

G Am

And he asks for some pies

(No pies? No Fruit pies?!)
Am F

Mangoes in a fruit shop 

Am F

and he buys some fruit
Am F

Mangoes in a fruit shop


And his toy trumpet goes 



G Am

Mangoes in a fruit shop


Mangoes… home.

This Poem Doesn’t Have a Specific Title Yet.

This next poem of mine is called: ‘Are Cemetries in the Dead-Centre of Town Symmetrical?’

‘The Cemetery Resident’s Comittee Will See You Now’
‘No Bones About It’
‘There’s a Skull in the Scullery’
‘Something Else’
‘Shall I just Get On With The Poem?’
Here it is:
Laying about all day

And the nighttime, too;

You left us to fend for ourselves

As you dearly departed

Are wont to do;

We shall visit

And eventually stay

But, that will have to be

Another ‘unspecified’ day –

Hopefully, not too soon

And then we will lay by the light of the Sun

And the Moon.

Norwegian Blue

Jane has a talent for understatement
and underbank underbalances. G:)


I put on my best outfit
Make my face up, do my hair
Want to look my bestest for you
So that you can see I care
Feel quite good about myself
When we are ready to go out
But at the dinner table you
Begin the niggles all about
How my looks are less attractive
And my waist is far too wide
I catch you ogling the waitress
When she stands right at your side
I feel inferior and ancient
My confidence, it hits a low
If that’s the way you want to play it
There’s a little place in Norway you can go

After the meal is done
(The insults coming thick and fast)
I infuse myself with wine
“No really, this one is the last”
You just can’t seem to help yourself
with speaking the harsh words
Not understanding the affect they have
Or how your mocking…

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Just knowing that it is snowing is helpful

Having someone explain about the rain is also rather helpful

But, when it comes to hailstones

How do you pronounce them?

Stones (as in scones) or stones (as in scones)?
Why is the weather ever troublesome?

And now a silly conversation. 

J: Hell is inky.
G: ‘Hell is inky’ in Finland?
J: No, Hell is a town in Norway.
G: No way!
J: Yes, way; Hell ‘is’ in Norway.
G: Is Hell on the coast?
J: Yes, it ‘isn’t’ inland.
G: And it isn’t in Finland?
J: No, it isn’t in Finland.
G: And Helsinki?
J: That is.
G: And Hell is Inky?
J: Probably, I’ve never been there.
G: I’ve heard that the Fjords are beautiful there.
J: In Hell?
G: No. Don’t be silly. 
J: ‘Me’, be silly? 
G (pauses): Or was it ‘Hull’ that I was thinking of?
J: Probably. You are a bit ‘hullible’ at times.
G: Ha! 

PS This may not make sense – but, what in life does?

Just a Silly Thing That I Thought Of.

Shane McGowan


I Can’t Be Bothered

I Can’t Be Bothered
I can’t be bothered;

Not in the least!
I am writing my memoirs,

Now, before I am deceased.
So, please don’t interrupt me;

Don’t knock at my door;

Don’t call me on the telephone;

And, definitely, don’t send round the law.
I need to concentrate

As some passages are hard

And I just can’t remember

Which lies to discard.
It’s nearly completed; 

The title, I mean;

I’m calling it:

‘My Life Living Under The Queen’.
It should be finished by Christmas

Though I don’t know which one;

I just need a few more jokes,

And to finish with a pun.
To say that it will sell

May be off of the truth;

But, my life (even made up)

Won’t appeal to da youf!
And to other ‘dear readers’

I can only pretend;

That they’ll download a copy

Once my copy’s been penned.
Anyway, I can’t be bothered;

I must not be disturbed

Silence is the order

Or I’ll be perturbed.
Anyway, off with you,

Young ‘reader-of-my-stuff’

I’ve spent too much time on this rhyme;

Too much, I say – enough!