Fire engine

Ripples round the bar they don't know what to think
For prince of the pen has himself a new favourite drink
To blow on bruised skin takes away the sting
I've half a mind to take him for a fling

The most uncouth of colours that you have ever seen
30mls of vodka lemonade and grenadine
The smoke makes me sick and i don't know where to look
There's a church mouse in the corner with her nose stuck in a book

And he says the flavour's flambouyant
Each sip sweetly poignant with a wave of the hand and a flick of the fringe
It baffles the quibblers, nit-pickers, nut-nibblers and unusual weapon to

choose for a binge

Would these words sound the same on high street in broad daylight
But nothing escapes the ears of a playwright
He listens intently from the backseat of a Bentley
Let this feeling of change take hold of me gently

Now there's fog on the Isis and the poets all blush
This scene is straight from the stroke of an impressionists brush
And now his glass is sat there next to mine
30mls of vodka lemonade and grenadine