Lighthouse Magic
It came upon the midnight clear
And hurtled round the town
Debunking all that we held dear
The Clergy and the Crown
Delicious rumour, rude and ripe
Soon spread from ear to ear
And what the priest did with his pipe
You would not want to hear
The mayor tried to track it down
With beaters and with nets
But once a rumour's gained renown
It does not yield to threats
The broadsides turned it into verse
Untempered with regrets
That things might go from bad to worse
From Daltons to Debretts
The BBC feigned piety
The débutantes all fawned
But Black Rod's notoriety
Was speedily suborned
The butler sold his sorry tail
And all of us were ears
Though thinking him beyond the pale
We silenced him with jeers
O little town of poison pen
O ye of little faith!
We've but ourselves to blame, but then
Our spirit's but a wraith
| Contributors: | (trad), Beefy, Ethetran, Roland, P. |
| Poem finished: | 7th July 2004 by Beefy. |