He had been drinking all through the night,
getting high on watsits and tin cans of spright,
it was then he took flight... and flew
in to Walter, the year dead shrew.
Next day, with a hangover, he went,
down to the finest sweetshop in Kent,
bought liquorice of all sorts,
the police sent reports,
that he'd been joyriding a hedgehog that night.
Author notes
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