On our England, sun shining,
Allergy sufferers whining,
As we bask in this weather,
Our Fair skin, it turns to leather,
We spend our time, sat in the sun
Alcohol fuelling our special brand of fun.
We’ve shaved our very hairy legs,
Later, Crying over Harry and Megs,
Cleaned the bird shit off the car,
Later Propping up the bar,
Buying ice cream from the van,
Sipping warm cider from a can,
Getting our arms rather red
Scoffing burned meat enveloped in bread,
Sitting in the garden next to the bin,
Quaffing new varieties of gin,
Putting the washing on the line
Obviously Drinking gargantuan amounts of wine,
Got dehydrated in the sun
Grabbed the last beef burger buns
Loaded trolley up with booze
Got sozzled, had a snooze.
Worn a brand new summer frock
Little shits, they ran amok
Factor fifty on the pale
Barbecuing for the males.
Fifty quid paddling pool
Punctured before they return to school
Overheating beloved family pet,
Lining pockets of fucking vet.
Thrown the salad in the bin
Wondered why we are not thin?
Woken early, drenched in sweat
Hangover, the ever constant threat.
Ice lolly’s, sweaty sandals are a must
Last years barby turned to rust
Garden used to be so cool
Now become our special doggy’s loo.
Trampoline death trap,wrestling ring
Husband freckled, barbecuing king.
Monday, back to work we trot
Moaning “I don’t like it, it’s too hot”
That’s it, its all done now
Next nice weekend is in October.