Big Bad Charles Green Poem by THE HOLY POET

On the south side of the city
Where the knuckle draggers roam
You can find them wandering after dark
Still looking for their home.

Night after night they find it
And smiles light up their face
But the castle known as Greyskull
Has always been in the same old place.

As the watchman burns his coals at night
They swarm round him like flies
He beats his drum and the flames jump up
He has the Devil in his eyes.

He asks them for a sing-song
He gets a few groans here and there
But he bangs the drum and promises
He'll save the Big House for their prayers.

He's drumming up for business
It's the best it's ever been
And they all follow their leader now,
He's the man they call Charles Green

He won't do scams or con them
And he'll never walk away
But don't dare cross the one with silver hair
Cos the man can make you pay.

So if you see an old night watchman
And he looks too squeaky clean
It just might be the Devil in disguise
Or it could be Charles Green.

The Holy Poet.