Got The T-Shirt: Song Of The Wheelies
Steph Spiers' poem rebels against wheeled waste bins which seem sometimes to have been designed to test the memories of those who have to use them.
The wheelies came in two by two
Hurrah, Hurrah,
The green one and the brown one too,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Now there’s a one with a caddy blue
To add to the hullabaloo,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in three by three,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
But a change of day adds misery,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
And to the colour blind it’s a mystery
Adding richness to social history,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in four by four,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Standing in line outside the door,
Hurrah, Hurrah,Be careful not to break the law
Don’t leave any scraps upon the floor,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in five by five,
Hurrah, Hurrah
Rotting garbage heaves maggot alive,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Seagulls circle and swiftly dive
On old spud peelings see them thrive,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in six by six,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Packets of cornflakes and Weetabix,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Folded and emptied by forty licks
Crushed down smartly with a pile of bricks,0
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in seven by seven,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Lined up all the way to the gates of heaven,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
From cold Aberdeen to sunny Devon
They’re collected by hero, beefy Kevin,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain
The wheelies came in eight by eight,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Out by 7 am or you’ll be too late,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Be careful don’t confuse the date
If you mix up the colours you’ll be in a state,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain
The wheelies came in nine by nine,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Collected in ones, or two at a time,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Brown and Blue together in a line
But mucky old Green has to bide its time,
And they all go to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
The wheelies came in ten by ten,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
We’re all truly sick of them by then,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Let’s take all pompous politicians
And dump them in a wheelie bin,
And send them all to the Recycling Park
For to ease the Council Tax strain.
