Nobby the Northern Dinosaur
National Poetry Day
Hello! You all right? The name's Nobby.
I'm Northern and Happy to say -
Welcome to my Wigan Casino
On National Poetry Day.
Now some Folk, they call me Old-Fashioned
for My Views about Nig Nogs and Queers.
And Lads with Girls' Haircuts in London,
and their French Bottled Nancy Boy Beers.
But Folk can Fuck Off, to be Honest.
Especially if they are Black.
All Muslims and all Vegetarians
can Kiss my Arse Right In The Crack.
The same goes for Lezzers and Spazzos,
and People in Wheelchairs, the Cunts.
They Fucking take up Half the Pavement.
We kept them all Locked Away Once.
The Programmes on Telly are rubbish.
Though Emmerdale's got better now.
Except for that Fat what's her Fucking Name?
The Big Stupid Fat Fucking Cow.
The Consultant has said I've got Cancer.
With just a Few Months left to go.
But he's just a Thick Fucking Asian
So what does he fucking well Know?
The Lads, though, they think it's a Right Laugh:
Eh, Nob - has it Fallen Off Yet?
Eh, Nob - have you no Sense Of Tumour?
They're Good Mates, and help me Forget.
Not that I need help in Forgetting!
My Memory's not What It Was.
I'm taking these Pills for Alzheimer's.
My Memory's not What It Was.
Cheerio, and I hope that's been Helpful.
I'll See You Back Here, then, Next Week.
All Being Well, see how the Tests Go.
Ah Fuck, I've Wet Myself.
