"Break out the cigars boys
I can feel it in my bones."
Said Brenda at the Hospice Shop
"Music sales are up this year."
As cloth-eared Britons everywhere
Prepare for party-time again.
And having got a house at last
I thought I'd fill it up with sound
By championing outlets which
Sell tapes and CDs by the pound
Torn between The Golden Hour of Harry Secombe
And The World of Fairground Organs
At 20 pence a shot or less
I'd have them both and then progress
To Help the Aged
And still have change from 50p.
Then who knows what
Might come to light, that rocks
In some old cardboard box.
"Music. Proper music, boys.
Tried and trusted over time
Not fifteen quid a shot
For some old rubbish in the charts."
Said Brenda at the Hospice Shop:
"James Last, Russ Conway,
Lena Horne, the Lennon Sisters;
Best Loved Catholic Hymns.
You won't go wrong with that."
I blew my one pound forty in
The Land Beyond the Bargain Bin
In boot sales, jumblies, bring'n'buys
The stuff they never talk about
In Loaded, Q and NME
Seems perfectly alright to me
Yeah. Break out those cigars, boys.