Kilroy by Dave Taylor

Come all ye would be poets
Who put your thoughts in rhyme
Who string your words together
Become legends in your time
Oh let us one and all bow down
To the greatest of them all
For what is life if we can’t read
The writing on the wall

You can keep your Blake, your Wordsworth,
Your Shelley and your Keats
Stuff your T.S Eliot, and Betjemen and Yeats,
Salute the new Poet Laureate
Let’s see his name in lights
The modern metaphysical
Who can put the world to rights..

Let’s raise our glasses to Kilroy’
Let’s all shout out his name,
They seek him here, they seek him there,
But the painters’ work has been in vain,
There’s many a time that I’ve sat here
Unable to refrain,
Trousers round me ankles ,
Laughing like a drain.

He’s no bog standard rhymer,
He should be on Channel Four,
He’ll tell us Sharon is a slag,
And Tracey is a whore,
Watch out for limbo dancers,
Of Jacques Cousteau beware
And don’t bother with the chewing gum
From that machine over there

Let’s raise our glasses…

So take your hats off to the King,
He’s no flash in the pan,
He’s always on the scene
When there’s a job to be done.
There’s balls by Picasso and L.O.A.Q.I.C
And it’s oh so droll with a toilet roll
Of sociology degrees


Let’s raise a glasses to Kilroy..

And while you’re reading what he’s put
You could be pissing on your foot..