Bumped into a mate the other day,
Hadn’t seen him in years, but was on my way
To an appointment and so couldn’t stop,
Though I did get me an invite to pop
Around to his new place on the sixth floor
Of a tower block twenty stories or more.
A feature of his flat was a large gong,
Mentioned it as his clock then moved along.
Good evening, beers and chat then time to go;
But what was the time? I wanted to know…
My mate with mallet gave the gong a smack -
The flat pulsated with this ear blast whack
And a voice came clearly through the ceiling
“Knock it off, it’s two o’clock in the morning.”