I woke up in a cold Romiley factory basement
My feet were all damp from brown Mersey water
I was thinking no matter where this case went
At least I’d avoided any wholesale slaughter
I looked around and noticed the wall’s reddish hues
Which made me quite glad I’d not eaten more
My mind got to wishing I’d brought me some booze
When a great slab of muscle kicked open the door
He dragged me upstairs to see Mister Grove, his boss
Whose blonde bombshell daughter had had a great fall
It seems that young Hazel had caused him a great loss
Yep - Turned out that she wasn’t called Tracey at all
It seemed that this guy had far more pull than me
After hanging about with some well-heeled green
I edgily suggested that I didn’t work for free
I told him he’d have to offer tons of money obscene
Turned out Mister Grove wasn’t a guy all that nice
Wood’s more my overcoat if I wasn’t tight-lipped
Then he threatened to have his guys put me on ice
“Aw! Put the heat on – Mercy!” I quipped
Grove told me his guys would lean on me mean
That he’d paid the price - but I’d be footing the bill
First they beat me so hard that I went cale green
Then finished of using me as a stepping hill
That grinning ton of muscle – known as Norris the Needle
Picked up my beaten chapeau; a snap-brimmed hat snapped
He wasn’t well bred - buried me just outside Cheadle
Bramn-all hope of a rescue I was feeling quite trapped
Martin A W Holmes, October 2016
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