Gen A Little On The Wild Side Poem by Mill Field

Here we drink water,
There they drink gin;
Here we are holy,
There they know sin.
We get up early,
They laze in bed;
Our colour is grey,
Their colour is red.
We sing our psalms,
They're happy with pop;
We sit up straight
While they dance and hop.
We monitor time,
They don't give a damn;
We eat much spinach,
While they relish ham.
We worship our work,
They worship their play;
The list could go on
For many a day.
Once t'was a road map
Which ran 'tween the two;
Let's put it together
And patch it with glue.
When that is done,
The bells all will ring;
And down that new road
Let's merrily wing.