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Mum put the kettle on

HELLO MUM, WELL I’M OVER HERE, ALREADY MISSING, THINGS LIKE BEER.

BUT SERIOUS, I SHOULDN’T MOAN, IT’LL ALL BE OVER, I’LL SOON BE HOME.

BACK DOWN THE PUB, A PINT WITH DAD, REALLY, THINGS ARE NOT THAT BAD.

ALL MY MATES, ARE OVER HERE WITH ME, WE’VE JUST BREWED UP, ‘NICE CUPPA TEA’.

AT HOME MAKING TEA, FOR GRANTED YOU TAKE, CAN’T POP IN THE KITCHEN, MAKE A DRINK AND SOME CAKE.

THEN AFTER WE’VE MADE IT, WELL IT’S NOT ALL THAT GRAND, THERE’S SUGAR AND MILK, AND A HELPING OF SAND.

THAT YELLOW STUFF REALLY GIVES US SOME GRIEF, TO DRINK YOUR TEA, YOU’VE TO GRIT YOUR TEETH.

STILL CAN’T COMPLAIN, THAT’S WHAT WE’RE HERE FOR, TO DRINK THE TEA AND FIGHT THE GULF WAR.

The Laundry

So I arrived in the desert, all washed and clean, my clothes all pressed, tidy and pristine.

Only been there two hours, all covered in dirt, who would I get, to now wash my shirt?

Then over the horizon, well at the end of the road, a laundry appeared, so I took my load.

Who would have thought, all that way out there, a place to wash clothes, clean things to wear.

So I entered the building, there was a man with a fag, whose first words to me was “has it all got a tag”.

Well! Shocked I was and as a rule, the last time I had tags, was my first day at school.

Marker pen in hand, I began to draw, my name on everything, all that I wore.

And then I left my dirty attire, yet when I returned, there had been a fire.

The fire was caused by a misguided shell, the laundry destroyed, it looked like hell.

All our clothes were scattered about, yet still in the middle, the fag man did shout.

“Don’t take what’s not yours” were his rants, as though I wanted, another mans pants.

I collated my clothes from the man with the fags, well! No more was it clothing, just un-wearable rags.

So there in the desert, in an angry mood, I stood with my mates, yes! All in the nude.

The Unbelievable Public Phone

Alone in the desert, whilst riding around, you’ll never believe what out there I found.

As the sun belted down, and I day dreamed of home, in the middle of no-where, what appeared was a phone.

Miles from anywhere, a mirage I saw, a public phone, straight out of the floor.

It was blue and white, my brain went numb, it stuck out the ground, just like a sore thumb.

The closer I got, out there all alone, I found it to be, a ‘Mercury Phone’.

I searched in my pockets and felt something hard, and believe it or not, I had a plastic phone card.

I left my motorbike, resting on its stand, and walked away as it sunk in the sand.

Lifting up the receiver, of the telephone, I couldn’t believe it, I’d got a tone.

Now you may think that, I’m totally mad, but I dialled a number and spoke to my Dad.

We chatted away, then spoke some more, he couldn’t believe I’d phoned from a war.

Now I promise that this tale is true, there is no reason I’d lie to you.

If only others knew what I knew, there would still be a phone, and a bloody great queue!