Albert

My friend Albert, as I came to call him, came to visit one day,

He has never left, but always asks for his newspaper on a tray,

Well some might say, is he catholic and does he pray,

There is only one problem there I say, he never has any money to pay,

Is he gay I ask you say, no I fear, nor does he stray he just never has the money to pay,

So where did Albert use to stay, when he did not have any money to pay,

Well old Albert would live wherever he may lay, all the way from June till May,

And all because he did not have the money to pay, only pockets filled with hay,

Was he old or was he young no-one knew, but one thing that I have been told

That is of course if its true, he hated torie blue and David Cameron who is cold,

And thought that taxing the poor was strong and bold as Albert sat out in the cold

Thinking thoughts of murder ten fold, all becuace the tory scum left him on the street

With his feet cold and bare, with no money to pay the fare, as Cameron and his cronies

Left old Albert on the street when he did not have the change to eat.