I’ll have a sarni, ta very much
and a cupper, a proper brew,
Yorkshire if you fancy, though
anything goes. We leave, we
exit, destination void, the pubs
our own so they will stay, the
bankers likely to hitch a ride,
go froggie most likely, though
Brussels beckons all. Show me
a chippy that will not remain,
after all sums are done and
the witch has burned.
