The Bottomless Pit - Rev. #1

[John]

The Bottomless Pit - Rev. #1

Greedy sod.
You saunter up with cool aplomb
like a conceited dandy,
snatch her sandwich and saunter on,
and leave some startled woman in your wake.

Don't look at me like that;
emotional blackmail just won't work.
You want some food? Then find your own.
Let me enjoy my fish and chips in peace,
and savour the harbour and the sun.

Bog off, and con some trusting trippers
with faces full of burgers and buns.
Plenty of pickings for gluttons like you.
Pinch a crab from the kid's bucket,
and listen to him laugh and his mother shout
while his dad holds out some crispy cod
and you swallow the bloody lot whole.

Sodding beggars grubbing for dregs.
Our fault, giving in to pitiful looks.
You wouldn't be scrounging if you weren't hungry -
but you're not.

Bastard seagulls.

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The Bottomless Pit - ORIGINAL

Go away, you greedy sod.
And don't look at me like that
as if I'm in debt to you and your brood.
Let me enjoy my fish and chips
in peace, and savour the harbour and the boats.
And you, mate. Bog off.
Go and bother some other sop on holiday
with their faces full of burgers and cream-
teas. Plenty there for the likes of you.
Sodding beggars. Never happy. Always scrounging.
Our fault, I suppose.
Rods for our own backs
giving in to pitiful looks. You wouldn't be scrounging
if you weren't hungry.
But you're not.

Bastard seagulls.