We've always got our groceries from him.
But the old orders soon shall cease to be,
And I must pass into an unknown land,
And at the corner by The Holly Tree
Where now he lifts a ceremonious hand
Yon constable shall scarce remember me,
Not that he ever——Quite. You understand.
And alien lips from mine must move to swear
Over the mangled remnants of a shirt
Brutally done to death with fiendish care