Of course I love ya darlin you're a bloody top-notch guy,
And sometimes I remember you used to make me sigh.
Your bum it was a beauty the lust in all my dreams,
Now I mend your trousers since you've split the bloody seams.
Your belly is an airship of undetermined size,
And like good baking powder it's guaranteed to rise.
Now would I lie to you my dear; untruths are not my game,
I well recall when nowadays flicker really was a flame.
Do you recall the first time we were deigned to meet,
What a lucky guy you were because I was hard to beat.
I'm watching Coronation Street, so don't sit there and yawn,
Get off your bum, get outside, and mow the bleedin lawn
Time moves on we're aging, another fun-filled year,
I drink red wine, but still it's me, that pours your ruddy beer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem