She’s a supercharged amalgam, of rolling stone and talcum..
Never found an easy place to be…she’s an aunti
A cast iron baby boomer, convinced défense de fumer..
As black and grey as old time ITV….she loved blue peter
Getting raddled by the day from the Smirnoff Perrier.
A nip to keep the blues at bay..a proud lush
Dusty tampon in her bag, bits that have begun to sag
It ain’t coming back any day…press to flush
What a little fox she’d been, shopped ken market on her own,..
She’s a Confidante of nieces,… is that patchouli?
A 60’s biba baby face, Confident strutting out her grace..
nephews are a pain …..She’s an aunti
She’s an ill fitting aunti in dubious slacks got a massive VPL and curdled sling backs…
She’s an ill fitting aunti with
From the Madison and twist, to the daily mailed fist,
Never thought it’d be such a trek
Via mogadon and help from her good friend Pam,
She sort of loved him, what the heck, hippy ankher
Relationships don’t bother mate, He had a white transit,
he’ll not be back to grab a granny ..feeling rotten
Those summers dreams weren’t ripped at the seams
Just the summer tights and the money…ooh poly cotton
She’s an ill fitting aunti in dubious slacks got a massive VPL and curdled sling backs…
She’s an ill fitting aunti
She needs the light to pray by, crumpled tissues in the layby
poor girl couldn’t not take no more
So spare a thought for aunti, A big old toast to aunti,
she took a walk up the M4, life in the fast lane
A norbert Detressangle, got her in a proper tangle
It was the cause of her demise
Thirty six wheels , split, splot, splat, they sealed,
The carnage of her goodbyes
Copyright Giles Dismore & Beth Dismore