Ant Smith

Seasons

In the summer

In the summer

The rubbish stinks

And clouds of flies

Spill out the bins

Cans of cider

Drip on my skin

As I put my

Old rubbish in

The paper shop

Is far too hot

They've had to lock

The freezer up

A pack of fags

A languid nod

A fat old man

A greasy spot

People shouting

From up above

Mothers pushing

Their little bugs

Train is coming

Now will it stop

If that bald man

He were to jump?

It's summertime and

It's far too hot and

England feels like

She's given up

Yes

It's summertime and

It's far too hot and

England feels like

She's given up

In the summer

The bounty rots

In the summer

I'm just a slob

In the summer

It's just my luck

In the summer

Too hot to fuck

In the summer

It rains and pours

In the summer

The death rate soars

In the summer

Time for a spree

In the summer

You're killing me

It's summertime and

It's far too hot and

England feels like

She's given up

Yes

It's summertime and

It's far too hot and

England feels like

She's given up

(In the summer

This england stinks

In the summer

The hate begins) x3


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