They used to call him the ironmonger
For he'd make a bolt for the door
When it was his turn at the bar
His wallet was in his other jacket
He'd be back in a minute
Just round the corner
It wasent far
It became a sort of art form
One that I couldn't help applaud
His bald faced brass balledness
Deffo could not be ignored
But there is a craft
To chicanery
If done with a bit of charm
It provides its own amusement
So really where's the harm?
Others were driven *****
It made them twist and ****
But I always appreciate
A master hard at work.