it’s bin rain, rain an more rain.
Where’s the bus? I complained
t the Council , they sayd it woz on’y me.
Bin t Marks yet? Food All’s brilliant,
but the whool town’s run down.
What appened in Paris wuz beyond!
It’s all them refugees, see….
it’s bound t be, they come over yer
but arf o them are gee-addies.
An tha woman welcomin them in Germany,
yew think they’d won the war!
Personally, I carn stand the Germans.
No sign of-a bus. There’s snow on-a way.