usque genua matris brown
usque genua matris brown
Sub mensa eundum
ee i ee i eei oh
si lenta capiunt
Ego vidi crura iniciamus
genua genu usque sursum, ne accedas usque aura
usque genua matris brown
O quam putre song
quid putridum song
quid putridum song
O quam putre song
quod etiam vates putridum
Back along we used to go up St. Catherine's Hill on Saturday nights after the pubs in Winchester. Someone would go up in the afternoon and build a fire and everyone would bring some nosh. Mate bought an industrial size can of baked beans one time and rolled it into the fire without peircing it. Everyone scattered and the inevitable happened. Salvador Dali would have taken inspiration from the trees dripping with baked beans. Sunday lunchtime in the pub and some folk said they heard it go off from town!
I have a hat which has a big flashing multi-coloured neon 'I'm a Season Ticket Holder, bow down all ye who would gaze upon me' sign on it. It is very heavy and hard work in high winds, but it's worth the trouble.