We're taking a bit of a breather while the world rearranges its underpants. Meanwhile, the other blog is here.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

I can visualise the cartoon for this

Lots of brass for this one. (Tune after HMHB)

I find them cluttering the stairs
And corners where nobody cares.
They fill that office over there.
They're even underneath my chair.

Any space that's going spare.
That meeting room we only share.
And while I stifle all my screams
Frequently they're in my dreams...

Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

Coming to the library
What's the first thing that you see?
Orange-boxed in serried rows,
Where they come from no-one knows.

Becalmed, bewildered and bemired,
Ageing bookstock looking tired.
Testament to lending vice.
Pages stained with something nice.

Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

(instrumental)

Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.


In the halls and by the walls
And where the friendly postman calls;
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

Every day, in every bay
And they just won't go away.
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

For miles and miles and miles
They are stacked in messy piles
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

Or else sometimes when we can
They'll be in the library van.
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

Where once there may be ten
There'll be twice as much again.
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

And I turn away and flee,
Thinking: "they'll not follow me."
Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.

And they go on and on and on...

Tatty booksale books.
Tatty booksale books.


2 comments:

The Topiary Cow said...

Very nice!

(Cow exists, humming tunefully)

Moo!

Lavinia said...

Musty is worse than tatty. A book needs a spine of steel to withstand the rough and tumble treatment it gets from me.