03. MESSAGE

Whilst Carol sat alone at night,

Drinking her plonk alone,

Her boyfriend Chris was in the woods,

Upon the ground quite prone.

His old pal Stu had led him wrong,

Some Christmas trees to steal.

Re-luct-ant-ly he’d tagged along

Hoping for a good deal.

Gamekee-per Stan had fired a shot

And raised a merry hell.

They’d run for it as best they could

But Chris he tripp’d and fell.

The third man he got clean away,

He’d had enough of this,

Knew full well Stu would be alright

But what about poor Chris?

Stu left him be-hind in the snow

And ran with all his might.

Thought he’d get away and swear quite blind

He was somewhere else that night.

A branch reached out and snagged his coat

And tore a chunk quite clear.

Armani Leather isn’t cheap,

Stu liked his fancy gear.

Stu made it to the van all right

Just like a scalded cat

And speeded off into the night

Think-ing “Well that is that.”

Pulled in a lay-by dark and quiet,

Got out his mobile phone.

Thought he’d give young Car-ol a call,

He knew she’d be alone.

“Listen,” he said, “There might just be

Some trouble coming round.

Chris is in a small fix I think,

Best you don’t make a sound!”

Car-ol asked what was going on,

And Stu quickly explained.

She wasn’t happy at this news

And called him lots of names.

Stu hung up and went on his way

Thinking he was scot-free,

Forgetting all about that bit

Of leather in that tree.