ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION
THE GREASY POLL
THE GREASY POLL
How can polls be accurate when I am never included?
If you believe a single one it's clear you are deluded.
I've never been asked my favourite tune of 1964!
I've never been asked which perfume is the one that I adore!
I've hung around in shopping malls hoping to be the one
Who'll be approached by a pollster! Wouldn't it be fun
To be the person casting that great decisive vote!
'Ah! Now we know the Top Ten types of Malleable Creosote!'
I've made lists of likely topics and kept them up to date;
'The Top Ten This'! 'The Top Ten that'! And I can hardly wait
To be approached with deference by some Pollster in the Strand
Who greets me with a cheesy smile and a notebook in his hand.
'I wonder if I can trouble you.........' will be his opening phrase....
'Trouble me! Darling, I've been waiting for you here for many days!'
My Top Ten Lists will be flourished and I'll feel pretty slick
When he takes his sheaf of numbers and gives my name a tick.
'The Top Ten names for Nanny Goats' ..... that's one I can supply;
'The Top Ten uses for Old Chewing Gum'..... that's sure to catch his eye!
But, so far, I live in Dreamland for I am never required
To add my tick to any poll, even though I am inspired.
So I beg you to doubt all of them, because, my friends, you see
None of them can be accurate if they haven't consulted me!
In feudal times the peasants worked outside in the blazing sun.
Their skin grew swarthy, gnarled and rough; in other words, 'over-done'!
The gentry, on the other hand, stayed indoors in the shade.
Their skin was white and delicate, not marked by toil or trade.
When a peasant showed his inner-arm, all work-scarred and unclean,
The blood beneath the surface, in his veins, could not be seen.
But the veins of the landed gentry showed up all clear and blue,
Proof their superiority was surely showing through.
So, if you were blue-blooded, it was very quickly seen,
Especially if you happened to be a reigning King and Queen!